The Epic of the Arcanists Prologue Kresk
by The Tygre
Summary: A demon named Kresk has awakened and 'befriended' Raven. Now Raven is being drawn into the world of demons and old magic. And things are gonna get weird, especially when Raven unwittingly joins an ancient society called 'the Arcanists'.
1. Chapter 1: The Fire Demon

_Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright  
In the forests of the night  
What immortal hand or eye  
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?_

_When the stars threw down their spears  
And watered Heaven with their tears,  
Did he smile his work to see?  
Did he who make the lamb make thee?_  
-William Blake, The Tyger

"You'll love it here, I know it!" The green boy shouted to the worn girl. She stared up at the massive tower, and in her heart felt a slight warmth. Even if this place was only a shelter, the friends she would gain remained with her. Tera walked in, and the other Titans followed. Raven, of course, remained the last, the end. Then, it came. A flash. Flame. Darkness. Could it be him? No. It was gone. The terror of origins left her. She cast a last furtive glance to the sun, as if to make sure it still shined and the earth rested beneath her feet. Not yet, she told herself. Not today.

Oh, innocence. If she only knew what had just awakened, and how it would shift the course of destiny in so many ways, a part of Raven would have screamed, a part would have laughed. For with the coming of Tera came a shift in the balance. The blonde girl herself was an elemental anomaly, shifting the power of earth out of proportion. And so, in her tread was the waking of fire.

He woke. Long had he slept. Years ago he had crawled away to his deserted cave beneath what was then a lone island. He locked himself away so that the age of mortals might pass, and, he could avoid the further stupidity of mankind. He had no particular hatred of the race of men, it was just that every once in a great while he found that humanity just got too stupid for even him to bear and that he preferred sleeping off the current generation. But none the less, he woke. Something had caused an imbalance. A creature of fire, awakened by a proxy of earth. "Ughh, what year is it?" He said to nothing in particular. He couldn't see. It was pitch black in his shelter. He tried lighting a flame in his talons. It went out. Being a creature of fire had its perks, like unimaginable power, but it had the downside of requiring the other elements to work. For starts, water of course could not get fire wet, air was needed to light the flame, and earth needed to provide fuel as either minerals or wood. He groped around the walls. Years ago he had clawed a tunnel out of the earth, a tunnel that led to the surface. He found some rocks blocking the former route. He cursed, in Abyssal. For those of you who have no idea what Abyssal sounds like, imagine this. The being that created all languages stubbed his toe on the door of the universe, kicked it, and then in further agony repeated all the words he had previously stated for the rest of the universe. In short, it sounded like every word was a curse upon anything and everything that had ever existed. He looked at his claws. They grew twice their length and glowed flaming orange. "All right then! If the tunnel's blocked up, we'll make a new one! Come on, you piece of scrap! Start working! I don't care how long it takes, I want to feel air again!" Tittering and clawing were heard coming from the back of the cave. He shouted a defiant cry at the rock, and the assault began.

Raven stood on the shore. Time had passed. Tera had come and gone. Challenges overcome and such. She remembered her first year with the Titans. When it was done, she felt so proud, so afraid, so amazed. Now, she lived for these serene moments in a sea of hectic events. It was her birthday. And it had been the best yet. Everyone else had left for one reason or another. There had been no omens, no premonitions, no warnings or apocalyptic revelations. And best of all, it was beginning to rain. She stared at the sea, felt the wind in her hair, and sighed. All. Was. Perfect. She walked back to the tower. The calm was well, it was whole. Then, HE came. She heard it before she saw it. A crack in the earth. She turned around in fear, and nearly screamed. A hand emerged from the ground. But this hand was freakish, wrong, in a word, demonic. It was rough and large as it clawed at the ground. Where fingers should have ended, this hand's digits extended further, lacking fingernails and becoming blood red. Another hand of similar form pulled itself out of the ground, but what followed, was a horror.

The hands were attached to long arms, hidden in the sleeves of a robe the color of the being's fingers. As it crawled out, the rest of the form stood up and revealed its glory. The sleeves were part of a greater robe, which covered the body of the being. The robe itself bore six black rib-like insignia towards the chest, and collar covered a thick neck. But the head of the thing was what was shocking. The head's shape itself was stout and tough. Pointed ears grew from the sides, each one bearing an earring that glowed faintly with magical energy. The mouth was open from the creature gasping at the new world it had resurrected itself into. Raven could see that the monster bore pointed, uneven, jagged teeth for canines. Every now and then, a glance at a thick red tongue that tasted the air like a snake occurred. The aberration had no lips, only two bulges of muscle around its mouth that served the same purpose. There was no nose either, just two slits in the face like a snake. Something grew from its head. Orange curving spikes, for lack of a better word, protruded from the scalp. There were 36, exactly, with large ones in the middle while smaller ones bordered them. Whether they were hair or horns was not evident, and Raven did not care. But it was its eyes that shocked her. The creature's eyes glowed like orange fire in a black orb, with only an ebony line to distinguish an iris. It spoke. It was an all at once rough, jovial, angry, and baritone voice. "Aww, great. Rain. I finally see the light of day and it's raining. Peachy. Oh, and look, ocean. Just what I needed; more water. And what is this city?! When I last saw this place it was barely a town with a well! And the well was a work in progress." He appeared to be yelling at himself, as nothing pursued him out of the gaping hole in the ground. Just then, he noticed the huge T-shaped tower behind him. "The people of this age have grown lazier. If they were going to build a cross to try and bind me to this rock, they could have at least finished it."

Then, he saw her. He laid both his fiery eyes on her, and bellowed, "Tell me, pathetic one, what year is this?" Raven struck. She shot a ball of shadow energy at him. All he did was step aside, and then slowly walk forward. She could hear clatter on the stone, no doubt from cloven hooves. She mustered as much courage as she could, and screamed, "Be gone, foul premonition!" A part of her was proud that she had even been able to find a voice, although the rest of her was saying, quite bluntly, 'run idiot'. He stopped, and stared at her with a puzzled look. "Premonition? What in the Abyss are you talking about? I don't know who you are, and personally I don't care. All I know is that you are a human, although I presume a unique one since only somebody of quality would ever be able to master shadow-dancing at such a young age, or be able to get away with wearing those scanty rags as an outfit.", he snarled with a bit of distaste. Rags?! She might not have been into that entire 'girl' thing like Starfire was, but still, some fashion sense had gone into her wardrobe, even if it was the same monotonous tunic and cloak day after day. She cast another orb of shadow at the demon. And once again he stepped aside. "Enough of that then." he said. He began to mutter in a dark language, and a shimmering orb enveloped her. She felt all magic begin to halt in her. She tried producing more shadow in her hand, but it fizzled away. Now the only option was to meet the demon in melee combat, or run. Running seemed the better option, as she was barely over five feet tall, and he was barely under eight. She made for the door. "Oh no you don't!" he shouted. Flames erupted from the ground, blocking the doorway. They were hot, miserably hot, and yet, a part of her felt comfortable. She preferred not to dwell on that part, or why she knew the flames like a child remembers a lullaby from its parent. No, not today, especially not this day.

"Now, it is time for the introductions! State your name." Raven had almost forgotten about the demon closing in on her, so entranced by the flames was she. "State it!" He yelled. She looked defiantly at him in the eyes, knowing this might very well be her last stand, her last words, the moment that would define her, and said "I am Raven, and this is my-"

"Alright, shut up, just, shut up. I've killed enough creatures over the years to know this monologue. Your gonna tell me this is your home, and you're going to stop me, and you're going to make a triumphant last stand. People who make these speeches generally have had rather weak lives or else they wouldn't have to put all their being into these pathetic requiems. That tells me everything I need to know. You haven't led a full life. You haven't felt all there is to feel and do everything you wanted to. You're going to make this your end. Look, all I really needed to know was your name, so I would at least know who the first person my claws will taste is. But I suppose you want to know who I am? I am for now and always, the indomitable Kreskarius Voneitz Donex Morrell Sho Matriaz Rex the Tyger! But since you mortals seem to die at the drop of a hat, you can shorten it to Kresk! I am the Fire Demon Lord of a Thousand and One Faces and Tricks, and Jester to the grand court of the Abyss and all it's demon lords, princes, Demiurge, and gods! Know my name and tremble!"

"Why am I killing you, you may ask? Because, I hate humans, I hate the weak, and you appear to be both! Make peace with whatever god it is you worship human! Prepare to feel the claws of Kresk!" He screamed a bone chilling war cry and charged at Raven. His claws were now the size of steak knives, orange, and grew jagged spikes around the base. They were poised for killing. This was the end it appeared. She was a little relieved; this might avert an apocalypse, or speed it up. Either way, she realized, she would be dead and it didn't matter. He drew closer, still running like an avalanche down a mountain. She closed her eyes; she did not want to give Kresk the satisfaction of seeing fear in them. And even now she heard the fiend coming, closer and closer. Then the demon stopped. His claws were nearly on her face. She had closed her eyes, but she heard the distinct sound of sniffing. She opened her eyes. Kresk's slotted nostrils were opening and closing, and he lowered his claws.

He stared grimly at her. "No. Not you. Not today." He lowered the flames behind her, and stepped inside. He examined the antechamber, and then saw what he was looking for. A blank wall, perfectly empty, perfectly large. He whistled, and Raven heard scuttling coming from the pit from which Kresk emerged. A golden bird-like claw emerged, then another. Both were attached to long avian legs, but they both met at an arch that bore a donkey's ears and owl's eyes to the side. Two bat-like wings as long as the legs were attached to the arch's back, and they to had talons on them. The arch scuttled inside. It spread its wings above it's head and stood adjacent to the wall. Like a piece in a puzzle, it attached itself to the wall, and a swirling vortex emerged inside the arch. Kresk walked forward, but stopped when he came to Raven. Quickly, he cut the palm of her hand, just enough to form a scar and make her hand bleed. She stared angrily at him, and he stared maliciously back, then said, "One day, you will come seeking strength. One day, you will come seeking power. One day, you will come seeking answers. And when that day comes, I will be waiting." He laughed in the oh-so stereotypical laugh of demented madmen and walked through the arch. The portal disappeared, and the wall surrounding the arch seemed to melt and cover it up.

Raven went upstairs. She washed her hand, and hoped no one would notice the scar. The others would be back soon. She was going to bed early. She took off her cloak and lay down. Perhaps this was all a dream. Yes, of course, a dream. When she woke up next, the scar would be gone with the demon, and she could forget this. She slept, in dreams of fire and claw. She woke in a sweat. She went to get some water. No one else was awake yet. It had all been a dream. Then, the burning began. She looked at her hand, and nearly cried. The scar was there, leering like the Fire Demon downstairs. And his voice rang in her head. "One day, you will come seeking answers. And when that day comes, I will be waiting."

_"Come out and dance with me. Dance with me in the light of the golden moon. And together we shall become acquainted with the night._

Failure. Raven sat in her room and tried to meditate, but her recent loss made it difficult to focus. How could she be so weak? Not even half way through the fight and she blacked out. All because her powers weren't sufficient. The rest of the team told her that these things happened, not to worry, it happens to everybody. But Raven wasn't everybody. She was supposed to be strong, and she had failed. One last time she tried to meditate. Almost, almost. But the memory came back. She felt the calm slip loose. A statuette flew across the room and hit the wall. She couldn't take much more. If only she could have better control, if only she was more able, if only she was _stronger_. She startled herself. She tried not to say she could be stronger, tried to forget what the fire demon had said to her.

Sometimes she saw him. It was evident she was the only one who saw him. He would be standing out on the shore, smoking a cigar and breathing out a thick black smoke that seemed to form faces and hands. She would try to meditate one last time. Patience. Calm. Serenity. Than the memory of the fight came again. This time a whole bookshelf nearly collapsed. Enough was enough. She picked up a book off the shelf and tried to flip through it and keep her mind busy. She failed miserably. Could strength really be that bad? Would it be such a problem to go talk to Kresk? A little help couldn't hurt. It was settled. She couldn't live knowing she was this weak. She would just go ask for a little help. Just a little. After all, how bad could it be? Of course the irony was that the book she had picked off the shelf, was Faustus. Common sense would dictate against this meeting with the hated creature, but Raven, especially when she was distressed, was anything but common.

Raven stood in the antechamber of the tower. Somewhere, the arch was around here. Now it was a matter of finding it. At first she tried to merely examine the wall. When that failed she tried the simpler trick of feeling the wall. Once again, to no avail. Finally, she sat down in one of the chairs. Why was she even down here? Was it really worth- the walls began to melt where the arch was, and slowly the entrance made itself evident. There was a door instead of a portal this time. She walked up to it. She began to knock, but withdrew her hand. Then she finally found the courage to tap lightly, three times. No sooner had the third rap been completed than the door opened. There stood Kresk, the Fire Demon in all his deformed splendor. He smiled a crooked and toothy grin. "I knew you'd come. They all come. None can resist the power that I offer." Raven looked at him sternly, "I'm just here for a little practice. You can help me or I can leave. I didn't have to come here you know." Kresk feigned the remark as a personal blow, "Oh of course not. But by all means leave. Personally I could care less whether you die or not, but it would be a waste of such potential. I do have one rule though; I insist you leave those old notions of right and wrong at the door." Raven stepped into the hall which the door led to, and Kresk couldn't help but add, "Step into my parlor, said the spider to the fly." The door shut itself. The hallway itself was plain. But at the end off the hallway stood a single, huge podium. On top of the podium was a book. And seated behind the podium was a chimera out of dream. What looked like a cross between a pig and a gorilla sat, or stooped, behind the desk. Its apelike body was crowned with a porcine head, and it bore cloven hooves over feet. To add the to the anatomical insanity, a rat like tail and bird wings were thrown into the mix. Kresk shouted something in an odd, violent sounding language (Abyssal) to the monster. The creature replied. It stare down at Raven. Kresk passed through the next door, and the demon said to Raven, in perfect English, "You don't what your in for." Bearing the cryptic warning, she followed Kresk to the next room. And what a room it was.

Red, plush carpeting covered the floor, except around the edges where it was replaced by marble. A shallow, rectangular pit in the center of the room had a single long bench on the inside edges, and steps leading into the pit. Pillars upheld the roof that supported a skeletal chandelier. The pillar were carved to resemble snakes, but the tops bore women with snarling expressions and six arms, each one holding an exotic implement of destruction. The walls were all lined with tapestries and paintings depicting various scenes of horror and destruction. Two doors led to separate hallways, but the main focus was the third, center door, across from the pit. Above it there was a final tapestry depicting a hand like Kresk's with his eye in it. He walked through yet another door, and called, "Keep up! How do you expect me to teach you anything if you stand there staring like an idiot!? Move along. I might live forever, but I still value my time." She ran after him into the next door. This room was dull, save for a large basin. The bowl was filled with a mustard colored ooze. On another wall behind it was a small shelf. Kresk spoke to the ooze, "Janys! Janys! Wake up! I need you to cancel my five o'clock today. I'm going to be busy." The ooze shifted. A lump grew and developed two green orbs to serve as eyes. It spoke, in a moist, old, tired voice. "Cancel them yourself. I work on my beauty sleep for four decades and I'm still living snot. I need more time." Kresk, annoyed, said, "Just cancel them Janys. I don't pay you to sleep all day." The ooze realized that Raven was staring at it. It looked at her, and said, "What are you looking at, weirdo?" The ooze melted back down into its bowl, and Raven followed Kresk into the final chamber.

The final chamber was small, but grand. The carpets were still red plush, and the room was still rectangular. At one end of the room, opposite the door, a grand desk sat, it's surface covered by papers, inks, pictures, and an appointment book. Behind it a bookshelf sat, bearing old tomes and grimoires to describe subjects dark and foul. The right wall bore a large portrait of a group of demons, ranging in shape and size from a lowly maggot-like creature with a human's face to a towering monstrosity made of flame and darkness. All along the walls weapons and armor of antiquity were displayed, from axes to swords to shields. Kresk sat down behind the desk and scribbled in the appointment book. Raven went over to a particularly grotesque shield on the wall and almost touched when Kresk, without looking up, barked "Don't...touch...anything. Especially that shield. It contains the hungry soul of a famine spirit, and if its mouth gets a hold of you I won't pull you out. Now, you have come to me seeking power." Raven drew away from the shield and replied miftly, "Look, all I want is something to help me. I don't plan on coming here regularly." Kresk chuckled, "Oh, they all say that. Than they get a taste of real power and become hungry for more. Like a drug. And like a drug this will probably consume and destroy you. But unlike such deplorable and voluntary weaknesses, it is completely free and you might, if you survive, come out for the better."

"Let me state some basic facts that you must always remember while in my house. You are a scion of justice, of good, of order and righteousness. I stand against everything you hold dear. I am a demon, a tanar'ri. My race has existed for millions of years as the avatars of pure evil and raw chaos. We are the unclean shadows that define the light. But contrary to what fairy tales tell you, we win most of the time. And contrary to what anyone tells you, we hold the most power, in its basest and darkest form. Unlike our eternal foes the baatezu, also known as devils, we live a life unrestrained while they slave and scheme away in the Nine Hells of Baator. Unlike the daemons, or yugoloths, who dwell in Gehenna, we live by no one's orders except those who prove they are powerful enough to giver orders, and we do not sell our dignity like it is a price. We are, in short, the nightmare and the flame, the monster and the killer. We dwell upon the Infinite Abyss, a place as cruel and horrible as we are. And it contains secrets that would drive a puny mortal like you insane. We are ruled by the demon hierarchy; demon lords, demon princes, and Demiurge, beings so powerful gods tremble at their names."

"I am the Grand Jester of the Abyss. Whenever the demonic nobility feels the need to laugh, or to cry, or to sing, I provide them with entertainment. In other words, whenever they want to feel 'human'. I earn favors from them, and in turn they gain favors from me. And now you have come, a lone mortal seeking the power of darkness. I don't care for what you need it. But I'm going to teach you, teach you things to make your head spin, teach you things that no amount of training any mortal can provide, teach you things that would make you tremble if you knew their full power." Raven seemed a bit shocked, and her better conscience got through, " I don't think this is right for me. I'm leaving."

"Going so soon? All right, if failure is how want to spend your life, by all means go." He innocently looked up at the ceiling, just appearing to watch a fly and not notice how deep he had struck. She turned around on her heel and walked towards him. She looked up to him in the eye, and said, "What? You don't think I can learn?"

"Oh, I know for a fact you can't learn. You're weak. But I supposed should just let you go so you can prove to nature that you aren't destined for greatness and are only fit to die in some manner and fuel the natural process."

"All right then, fine, I will try. And I'll prove that I can learn.", she practically yelled, letting her true temper glow for a moment. He smiled a crooked grin, "That's just what I wanted to hear. We'll start with melee combat. Follow me to the Slaughter Grounds."

"What in the Abyss was that supposed to be?!" Kresk was at breaking point. He had led Raven to one of the side rooms she had seen earlier. It was built like a small arena, with a fighting are in the middle and benches to the side. They had been practicing combat for a while now, and Kresk was starting to lose patience. "Why in the god's name are you holding back?! I know that's not all you can do! Come on! Hit me with your best shot!" Raven glared at him, "I have to keep control of my emotions. If they get out of control-" "If they get out of control," Kresk mockingly imitated, "then what? Some of the tacky junk lying around this place gets broken? Come on! I have enough money to replace anything here five times over. Now, hit me, if you can!" Kresk lunged with his claws. Raven dodged and threw a ball of shadow energy at him. It hit, but it might as well have been a ball of tissue for all the good it did. He shot a fireball. It nearly hit her in the head, but she blocked with a shield. Raven let a barrage of shadow balls go, and they seemed to slow him down enough for her to pop in a question.

"When does the actual learning begin?"

"You fool! This is the learning! I could teach you new abilities, but for you to move on you must first master your current powers." He lunged another claw at her as she was about to release more shadow energy. He gripped her hand in his iron vice. It seemed so small compared to his, and he knew he could break it like an egg if he wanted to. He gritted his teeth, and stared at her, "Why do you hold back? There is a flame of rage in you that could consume the world if you used it. Make it your fuel! Hit me!" She broke loose of him. She had had enough for one day. Enough really was enough, especially from a lowly creature like him, "I'm leaving. I don't have to take this, much less from you. I knew coming here was a bad idea."

"So that's it? Your giving up? Huh. I wouldn't have taken you to be a lying freak at first, yet here I am." She stopped on her way to the door.

"Oh, you heard that. What ever happened to 'I will learn, you'll see.'? Well a liar I can stand, but the freak-"

"What did you call me?", she growled through gritted teeth. "You heard me. You're a freak, an abnormality, and a miscreant. Nothing loves you, you're bound to die alone. Let's just be honest; it would have saved everyone a lot of trouble if you never left wherever you came from. And you'll never learn anything. How do you expect me to teach-" Kresk felt the shadow behind him. She was rushing, running, not flying, at him, covered in black flames. There was murder in her eyes, and fury in her breath. He rushed forward to meet her in combat. He started to raise his claws, but he barely had a chance. Raven hit him on the jaw with an impossible strength, and felt the sweet sensation of bone crunching. Kresk stood there, dazed, for a moment. This time she hit him on the side of the head. His eye stopped working for a moment, and she could feel her shadow claws rip out part of his ear. Another blow to the other side of the head blinded him completely. She hit him with a flurry of blows, until at last, she gave a final punch in the stomach. He collapsed to the ground, his arms barely having the strength to support himself.

Raven stood there, panting. She suddenly realized what she had done, and slowly but surely backed away. Kresk started to laugh. " That' a girl. You learned something after all. That's what I was looking for." With his one good eye, he stared at her, "You've got some serious anger issues kid. You're gonna fit in great around here."

"NO! I'm not staying! I don't... I don't want to be this!" she yelled. "That's too bad. You are what you are. Come on. We're all having a party down here in the pit. Come on and join us." He extended a hand, but in doing so weakened his support and fell flat on his face. "Could, you maybe turn me over before you leave? Hello? Hello?" Raven had already left, and Kresk felt the emptiness of the room. "Ah great."

Raven ran to her room. She sat there in front of the door and held her head in her hands. She was scared. Not for all the bad things she felt, but for all the good. How good it felt to fell the crunch of bone, to feel warm blood trickle down her hand, to let everything go and become a whirlwind of fury, taking pointless, violent revenge. But the most terrifying thing of all was the voice in her head. A voice that she hated to hear, that she dreaded hearing. It whispered, in a harsh, dreadful voice full of glee, "That's my girl. Make me proud." Raven went over to her bed and picked up Faustus again. Forgetting was pointless now. It was time to move on and accept the reality. She had embraced the demon for a moment; and it felt right.


	2. Chapter 2: We Have Come to Terms

_"Have no friends not equal to yourself."_  
- Confucius

Kresk swore in annoyance. "Where is that stupid scroll? I need that bloody scroll, right now, and right here!" Kresk, quite obviously, was miff. He was in desperate need of a scroll of stealth, to help a client with infiltration. Stealing was relatively easy for those who are light and nimble, but when you are nearly eight feet tall and 500 pounds, nimble is not on the list of self-qualities. He stormed into his office. Janys remained asleep, or hibernating, or whatever it is a living ooze does all day with it's free time. "Janys," Kresk growled in annoyance. The ooze shifted slightly and 'looked' at him. "I need to know if we have any scrolls of stealth." The slime, with all the moist dignity its voice usually carried, said simply, "No." Kresk swore under his breath again. "Sigil doesn't have any, I can't reach the Abyss, and this task is too minor to call a favor from one of the Arch-Demons. Gods, I'm in a fix. If I don't help Malus with this job tonight I don't get paid for it, and if I don't get paid I'm going to have some very unhappy crime lords after me. And I don't like being dead, or in pain for that matter."

Janys merely slipped back into her bowl has he rambled on about nothing. Whether the old, fat demon lived or died, she didn't care. As long as she got paid, she did her job as secretary to the Fire Demon. He continued his rambling. "There has to be someone with a scroll I can contact. Someone I can-" He started to cough, a violent, hacking cough. He finally choked up a small amount of blood. The cause of the malady; a chip of bone. He frowned even more. "Ugh, that little brat. Even now she makes me suffer. She dislodged one of my ribs! It's still drifting around somewhere, although from the looks of it, it's coming back the hard way. I ought to ring that little-" He stopped. That was the answer! That would solve everything! Raven! That annoying little mage would have his scroll! "Ha ha! I knew that kid would be useful to me somehow!" He ran out of his office, and made his way to the world outside.

Raven shifted in her sleep. She was having such a good dream. It was pleasant. She and Malchior, in his human form, were standing by the shore, holding each other's hands. Malchior couldn't help but peek into her dreams. He had nothing else to do. For starts, he was made out of paper. And second, as a dragon, he rarely, if ever, slept. And when he did, the sleep could go on for years. The dragon thought about his home. His horde. Ahh, familiar gold and treasure. He had proved to the world that even as a cross-breed he could gain treasure. His father had been a red dragon, and his mother a black. No one thought he would survive past infancy. And yet he did. He killed his brothers and sisters, took their hordes, and rose to power. To bad that annoying wizard had come. It was his fate. He was a great and powerful creature, and mortals would always seek to kill him for one reason or another. But now he would have his victory over the wizard, he would have the last laugh. He would return to the mortal world and dominate it. But first, he had to endure this humiliation.

He stared at Raven as she slept. She was just taking a nap, a quick rest from their practice. He tried to lick his lips, and grew annoyed when he realized he didn't have any yet. He wondered how he would eat her. Picking her apart was too messy, but swallowing whole was so unoriginal. He could always 'cook' her first, but she was so small. She was barely a morsel. No he would have to savor her. She was just the right age, tender and perfect. He could feel the wizard reel with anguish and horror at the thought. That was what made this palatable; the wizard suffered. Malchior had stolen the wizard's best features; his eyes and his voice, and was using them just the right way. And what really made it fun, what really made him quiver inside, was the knowledge that the wizard actually loved the stupid girl! Love. Pfft. He thought to himself that if there was ever a more useless human emotion, he hadn't heard of it. Still, it was best to lay on the flatteries thick.

Yes keep the flatteries thick. Every one of them. Every 'You are beautiful to me', all the 'We can be together forever', and even that most detestable of phrases, that one he hated above all to hear and utter, that he loathed and despised with an unbridled passion, 'I love-

"I love you." She had awoken. He had been rambling to himself so long now he hadn't realized she was done with her rest. She barely whispered to him, from soft lips, "I really do. Tell me; do you love me to?" She stared at him through those beautiful eyes. He moved back into character. "My gem, why do you ask a question? You know I love you (he thought to himself as he uttered these words "must...repress...urge...to...scream") more than the sky is broad and the ocean is deep." Raven smiled at him. "I dreamt about you. There was a sunset and-" He put his fingers over her lips. "Save the romance for later. For now we must further your studies. Today we begin the works of Orius IV, mad sage of Durn." As he said this, she lifted herself out of bed. She picked up the book he had laid beside her bed, one of many. She walked around the room. There was a slight spring in Raven's step, and a slight smile on her face. She walked over to where Malchior was standing. He was still talking, and he turned around suddenly to find her unnervingly close. She stared at him, in that ethereal, almost dream-like fashion. Oh no, he thought to himself. She's doing that human romance thing again. He prayed quickly: Please, Tiamat, mother of dragons. If you have any compassion for me you'll do something. My dignity has limits, my queen, and I don't think it can take another blow. Raven batted her eye-lashes flirtatiously, and nearly whispered, "I wonder. Is it possible to kiss a man with no lips? Let me...find...out." She closed her eyes and pressed a little closer to him. Malchior was now screaming at his goddess: you stupid lump! If you don't do something in the next five seconds I swear I'll turn to Bahamut just out of spite! Her lips were nearly on his (or not; you get the point), when suddenly, a miracle occurred.

A bang that could have torn mountains hit the door. "Oh no. Not now." Raven moaned to herself. A harsh voice barked, "Raven bang Open up you little agorophobe! Bang I know you're in there! Bang I can hear you!" bang-bang-bang The assault ended, and then, Kresk suddenly realized, "Wait a second. What am I doing?" Raven and Malchior heard the crackling of flames outside. The vent in Raven's room suddenly exploded. A living fireball emerged, and dissipated to reveal Kresk. The demon quickly looked at her and said, "All right look! I don't like you, and you don't like me. So just hand over a scroll of stealth and I won't kill you for knocking one of my ribs out of place...yet." He suddenly realized something was afoot.

"Why, in the name of all that is unholy, are you wearing white? And why is the room completely littered with books? And lastly, and this part really concerns me, is there a man made out of paper standing over there?" He pointed a jagged claw at Malchior. "His name is Malchior." She sneered reproachfully. "Ah, crazits. I recognize that tone." He backed away, in an all at once satiric and serious way "If you knock another rib out of me, I'm taking one of yours. All I came here for was a scroll. Now cough it up before I lose patience." Malchior interjected, "Excuse me, but who are you?" Raven, disdainfully, began the introductions. "Malchior, this is the Fire Demon Kresk. The last time we met we had a little fight and-" 

"A little? Is that what you call it you barbaric trog? You dislodged one of my ribs, knocked out one of my eyes, and broke my jaw and arm in three places! I was nearly killed, and I've been coughing up blood for weeks!"

"Well you kept pushing me!"

"Oh no, don't go blaming your anger issues on me!" Malchior finally shouted (he wanted to unleash a draconic roar, but found the wizard's voice only good for spells and compliments, not battle), "How dare you! I demand you leave now!"

"Or what? You'll throw paper wads at me! I can rip you sixteen ways from - wait a second. I know that smell." Kresk approached Malchior. The Fire Demon was a complication in his plan, to be sure.

Kresk sniffed the air around Malchior. "Oh, victory is sweet. Hold on, hold on. Let me enjoy this moment, oh sjir darastrix (scroll dragon; Kresk is now speaking in Draconic, language of dragons, one of the most recognized languages of the paranormal, a language Raven doesn't understand, and second oldest language in the multiverse.) Here I stand in front of you, of all things, now reduced to this. Oh, I am relishing this moment."

"Leave me alone, you uncivilized brute."

"Uncivilized? Listen and listen good, darastrix, while you were crawling on all fours like a hairless rat, I was conquering nations and casting spells that would make you cry like a rat! I bet you haven't even looked at the _Galleon Scrolls_!"

"As a matter of fact I've read all the _Galleon Scrolls_! At least I flipped through the _Corpus Infernus_."

"I nearly wrote the _Corpus Infernus_, wux pothoc faessi (you stupid coward)! Trust me, anything you have read, I have read, and more!"

"Oh really then? Well have you at least gone through the _Elder Scrolls of the Ninth Dus_t?"

"Ha! You probably haven't even read the first Eight Dusts! How can you hope to understand the Ninth, wux onureth levex baeshra!"

"Well I bet you can't recite the codes of Ravana in Infernal."

"As a matter of fact..."

Three hours later...

Raven continued to watch the two argue. They were essentially playing a tennis match of arcane knowledge. One would name a book, the other would reply with a counter-attack. In time some things she had thought only legend were being revealed as the reading lists of the demonic and arcane. Kresk was on the bat this round, "_The Necronomicon_! And I don't mean those kiddy versions you can buy anywhere, the real thing written the Mad Arab himself! Volumes one, two, and three."

"Volumes three, four, and five. And the author's name is Abdul Alhazred."

"_Damgits_. You win there."

"Of course I win. Now leave before I have to further humiliate-"

"_GOLDEN SKINS OF THE WORLD SERPENT!_", Kresk shouted, as if revealing a trump card. Malchior stared, puzzled by the sudden utterance. "What?" Kresk's frown of defeat exploded into a laugh of triumph, "Ha! Now I am the one humiliating you! I would expect, of all creatures, for you to know about them darastrix!"

"Well don't leave me in suspense. Tell me what they are."

"I don't think so. I like having this edge over you, darastrix. It makes me feel...powerful."

"You old buffoon! I bet you don't even know what you're talking about. Fye on you and your scrolls, and all demons to."

Kresk was smoldering at the insult to his kind. "Don't...ever...insult...a tanar, paper boy. We were here before your race was even crawling on its bellies like worms." Kresk looked around for something to attack with, and then the simplest and most malicious idea of all came to him. Kresk pointed his finger at Malchior, and watched the digit ignite. With a sneer, he said gleefully, "Have a little fire, scare-crow." The miniature fire-ball flew towards Malchior. It would have hit him, if not for the intervention of Raven. The shield of darkness she created protected Malchior, and she shoved it back on Kresk. He was flung against the wall, and a distinct sound of pain emerged from the demon. He said, painfully, "I think I found that missing rib. It's, somewhere in one of my kidneys right now. Good thing I keep a third one around, just in case." His remarks remained unheard. He got up, only to find an enraged Raven staring up at him with fury. She snarled, "I want you out of my room, now." She was obviously trying to restrain herself from screaming. Kresk said, sarcastically, "So this is how you repay my hospitality? I take you into my house, try to teach you something of value, and how do you repay me? You nearly kill me and don't even offer the courtesy of your home. How rude. Obviously this paper freak hasn't taught you any manners." He lowered his face so it was next to her, so she could see the hatred and scars on his visage, and smell the sulfur and death on his breath, "Tell me, just out of curiosity, why do you keep this useless thing with you? What could he possibly do that could make a miscreant like you feel any better?" She stared at him, eye-to-eye, and with dignity and confidence in the face of the beast said, ever so quietly and yet so loudly, "I love him, and I know he loves me to."

"Love? Don't talk to me about what you call 'love'. You don't know half of what love really is. Love is the connection of two souls who are destined to be with each other in a way so deep and profound that you can't possibly begin to call your school-girl infatuation with this, this, _thing_ love. He can barely touch your skin, much less the deepest and softest part of your soul. When you have lived centuries moving on nothing but passions like I have, you can talk to me about love. Until then, don't nag me about romance! What you have is not the love of soul-mates, it's more like the love I have for a fine Acheronite cigar."

"Don't lecture me. Have you even felt love? Do you even really know what love is?" 

"I love things! I love myself. I love my material possessions. I love corrupting and destroying all that is pure and innocent and holy in the world. I love killing and destroying in bloody ecstasy until nothing is left standing and I'm up to my hips in gore. See? Right there, I love plenty of things."

"You wouldn't understand. It's not just love. It's belonging. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I have someone who understands me, someone who is really there with me. For the first time, I feel like I have a real friend to talk to." Raven walked away, not necessarily towards Malchior, just away from Kresk, the discord in her harmony. He looked at her with a solemn look, and said, in a tone laced with pity, "You poor creature. You poor, poor creature. May the gods smile upon you." She looked at him with contempt. Why should he pity her? He was the pathetic one, not knowing love or happiness, wallowing in his own savagery and base instincts. "Leave Kresk. Just leave before I knock out another rib."

"I'd like to see you try, oh deceived." Kresk turned around and walked away, forgetting all about the scroll he had come for. He waved his hand in front of the door, and it slid open. But before he left, he stared with a final, angry, disapproving look at Malchior, and said, " Oh wux virlem dartak ur martir aesthyr, ocuir. Wux lo malsvir vur thurgix, vur lo kathar svent wux ihk vorel vur sveargith irlym. Ocuir vur osvith sgek." (Very loosely translated; Oh you cruel thief of beauty and happiness/innocence, know this. You are weak and evil, and I do not approve of this cruel trick that you play. I shall kill you, for pride and the sake of true freedom and happiness. Know this and fear.) Kresk stepped through the door, and disappeared in a burst of fire. Raven shut the door and sat on her bed. Malchior grew uneasy at the prospect of fighting a demon. But it was doubtful he would actually show. The Fire Demon was merely doing what he did best; entertaining.

Of course later it was the truth Malchior was a dragon, and he did fail in his plans of escape, but not by Kresk's hand. Kresk simply decided not to come. If the young mage was so confident in herself, she could take care to the problem. He was apathetic to her plight. Yet her problem still ate at his mind. To feel a sense of belonging was one of the few human emotions the demon retained. It was necessary to him. Without it, he would simply be another bitter and violent creature wandering the world. He knew how it felt, to be alone, to not have another living being to talk to, to truly connect with. It was the emotion he carried most of his long, dismal life. And it seemed so sad that any living thing in the multiverse should ever feel a loneliness like that. Perhaps it was time he had a talk with the shadow-dancer.

Raven sat on the roof of the tower, staring at the full moon on the ocean. The entire scene reflected her, perched alone in the world, the night closing in like hands at her heart, the faint and unsubstantial moon the only light. Her friends had comforted her, but it was still not enough to fill the aching void in her heart. She had friends, yes. And they loved her like she was a sister. But no one understood her in reality. She stared at the sea, and felt a hot wind blow against her face. The trotting of hooves and the familiar scent of brimstone came to her nose. Kresk stood next to where she was sitting, and stared out at the ocean with her. Without actually looking at her, he sat down. "Hey kid.", he said in a quiet, but still gruff voice. She didn't answer. She wished he would leave so she could return to her thoughts, even if they were dark and she almost welcomed the distraction. He spoke again, "Makes you feel lonely, doesn't it? Sitting out here and knowing that there isn't anything else to do except live with the betrayal and despair. I've known that feeling a lot. I've lived a long time, and yet somehow I keep getting depressed. " He stared at the ocean a bit more.

"You know, I wasn't always a demon. There was a time in my life where I was actually a human. Still had my nose, and hair, and lips. That was before the chaos magic made them fall off." She looked up at him, and in the moonlight, she could almost see where there might be a human being under all the scratches and horns. It was there, just for a minute, then it was gone, swift as a shadow. "You say that you feel like you don't belong, and that I can't understand that feeling. You don't know just how wrong you are." For the first time in the conversation, he looked at Raven. His massive shadow loomed over her, and he waved his hand over his face, "You see this ugly mug? It's my bane of existence. I'm too hideous and terrifying to be human, and yet there isn't nearly enough insanity and savagery in me to be a demon. I'm in a limbo. Like you, I don't really belong anywhere."  
Raven looked back out at the sea, but Kresk continued his visage of the girl. "We're both freaks and outcasts, neither really belonging. And we have enough of our differences so that we stand on separate perches. But you know what they say about loneliness." She continued to stare at the ocean, and dowerdly responded, "I really don't."

"They say it is lonely at the top. And if you're lonely, you must be at the top. Now you can do two things. You can stand there an mourn and mope, or you can do what I do." She looked at Kresk, and asked "What?" 

"You can scream and holler until the entire world hears you, you can let the world know you are at the top, and that you have something over them. It's how I get through the day at least." Raven looked back at the ocean grimly, and said, "That doesn't make me any less lonely. That just reminds me that I am alone."

"You know what else you can do?", Kresk asked cheerfully. Raven remained silent.

"You can turn and look at the other lonely bird at the top. Than you can look around again and see another one, and another, and another, until suddenly, the top isn't so lonely." Her stare still looked out at the waves. Kresk turned his attention to the calm Pacific as well. "I know we've had our differences in the past, kid. But let us put those aside." He looked at her, "Let's be friends from now on. Who knows? Maybe you'll actually have fun." He extended his large, clawed hand out. She stared at it for a moment. With a mild tone, Raven said, "All right. I guess I can try anything once." She shook his hand. The contrast was staggering. Kresk's hand was rough, callous in places, with his jagged claws and a palm small animals could fit in with. Raven's was soft, gentle, delicate, used to performing the somatic components of her spells, not the bloody war Kresk waged.

The two hands departed from their shake, and Kresk remained on the roof, and said, "Good. Now that that's cleared up, maybe that annoying guilty feeling in my stomach will go away. You're always welcome in my house, should you choose to come. Just be careful when you come in." She replied with a mild "Okay". Raven stared out at the ocean again, her head swirling with a thousand thoughts. What does it mean to befriend a demon? What will come of this union, however uneasy it may be? What does that voice in my head say about this? Will anyone replace Malchior in my heart? Am I meant to be happy?

Kresk just stared out at the sea, his mind as calm as the gently rolling waves now. It might be fun, having an apprentice again, he thought to himself. Or at least having a new friend to talk to. His mind drifted back like foam on the waves, and in the light of the silver-blue moon, the two opposites of humanity and inhumanity sat on the same perch for a moment.


	3. Chapter 3: Brilliant!

"_It's the friends you can call up at 4 A.M. that matter_."

- Marlene Dietrech

Of course Raven didn't take Kresk's advice seriously at first. Why should she? The old demon lied as easily as he breathed (of course several centuries of smoking cigars do horrors to a person's lungs, and Kresk smoked like a chimney), if he breathed at all. To actually believe that he was willing to call a truce just didn't seem in his nature. Still, at the very least, this might mean the tanar would leave her alone now. She just didn't trust him. Demons of any shape or size made her uncomfortable. It wasn't an actual fear of _them_, it was a fear of _herself_. It took all she had to supress her inner being, and she didn't need anything to motivate it. Raven had made up her mind; she had enough monsters to deal with as it was, and she didn't need an extra one bothering her. At least that's what she said to herself at first. After a while, she grew lonely again. If lonliness could be made a friend, everyone would want it simply for the fact that is always there with you, even when companions and merriment are everywhere. Such it was with Raven. No matter how much her friends comforted her, she felt alone. It was as Kresk said; she was an outcast, no matter what.

She was a lone bird on a perch, as Kresk had told her. Now it was time to go chirp to the other perch. One day, merely because there was no one else to talk to and it seemed like a good idea at the time, she visited the Fire Demon. Raven found the door easily enough, knocked, and Kresk replied with a jolly and surprised greeting. Kresk knew Raven didn't trust him. And she had every right in the world to. Demons see nothing odd in paranoia, it's one of the cornerstones of their lives. To not be paranoid about someone is just considered weak in the Abyss; you never know who's going to kill you and when. But while Raven suspected Kresk of merely performing the role of 'friend' in the tragedy that was life, Kresk did not suspect her of anything at all. Kresk trusted Raven, merely out of the fact that he knew that she had nothing to gain from him, and that even if she did, she probably wouldn't get it without a good fight first.

No, Kresk's concern for Raven was more out of pity than fear. She worried him, for in her he saw a bit of himself, back when he was a human wandering the spheres and worlds of the multiverse. So he was determined to accept the young mage, and be a friend in any way he could. He could tell this would take work though. Even as she walked through the hall and past the nalfeshnee to the main chamber, it was apparent she was tense, more than usual any way. Than the two beings chatted in a way that could only be called small talk by the standards of the dark and morose. Raven was merely doing this out of boredom; Kresk perceived this as her attempt at being a friend. After a while Raven left, past Janys and the pit in the main chamber, hoping that now it was assured the demon would stay out of her hair.

Of course what Raven failed to realize was the simple truth in befriending a demon. As mentioned earlier, demons are paranoid, viscious, psychotic, and overall just not nice. As such, they aren't what you would call the 'friendly' type. Sociable, yes, but not friendly, especially with what they consider the "lesser species" (anything that isn't a demon). As such, demons dwell in their own emotional shells to protect them from their peers in the Abyss and generally everywhere else. But when, for any reason, that shell is breached, by either the demon itself or another person, than the subject of that breach is henceforth a member in a binding emotional contract of alleigiance with the fiend. In other words, when a demon decides to befriend somebody, with or without the person's consent, they stick like shells on a rock. After that, nothing in the Seven Heavens or Nine Hells can make a demon turn on that friend except the demon's own will. And so it was with Raven, who, without even knowing it or actually wanting to, had bound Kresk to her.

It shouldn't have come as any surprise then when one morning Raven stepped in for breakfast to find Kresk sitting on the counter. Everyone else seemed rather oblivious to his presence. Beast Boy lazily hung over a bowl of oatmeal, only half-conscious enough to know there was food. Starfire, in that disturbingly unusual way that came naturally, zipped around the room as if the sun that rose was her breath of life. Robin, merely concentrated on his food, but it was obvious he was tired, no doubt from an all-night case report on some criminal. Cyborg, somewhere between the realm of sleep and waking was cooking an assortment of meats. And there, on the counter, perched like a gargoyle on august Notre Dame, sat Kresk. Nobody saw him, or heard him, or even felt his presence which followed him constantly like a pet. He was invisible to everyone, everyone except Raven.

As she watched, Kresk observed her friends like a cat looks at mice in its path. He sat on the edge of the counter, positioned right behind the chair at the end of the table. Cyborg sat down with his breakfast. He inhaled the scent of meat like it was the stuff of existence, then dug in like a starving lion. Kresk leaned a little closer, still unknown and unseen. He cracked a maliscious grin, then opened his vast mouth. All his jagged and crooked teeth diplayed, he opened his mouth like a snake. He leaned forward, so that his maw could chomp off Cyborg's head like a shark bites a seal. He leaned a little closer, and prepared to bite.

Raven panicked. If she attacked, she might hurt Cyborg, and reveal Kresk. If she didn't do anything though, the team would be short one automaton. She looked for something to do. Then, she noticed it. There was a wishing sound, and it was coming from Kresk's direction. Near him, emerging from under his robe, was a forked tail. Oh, this would be good. She concentrated, and an ever so small ethereal black hand formed nearby. It grabbed Kresk's tail, and pulled hard. Kresk let out a cat-like yeowl and was dragged back to the hallway where Raven was hiding.

He stood up still sore from his humiliation. He glared at Raven with an annoyed, disgraced look. "Anthraxus in Hades, what was that for?" Raven was a little shocked, but managed to reply "You were about to bite my friend's head off! Do you even know what you were doing? Do you even-"

Kresk interuppted the miffed rantings of Raven. "Ah, don't get your cloak in a knot. I'm incorporeal, see?" Kresk moved his hand towards Raven's head, and then _through_ her head. Raven only felt a chill where Kresk's arm passed through. He withdrew his arm from her head. "See, nobody can feel me, see me, or hear me, except you."

"Why is that?" Raven asked. "I make myself known to those who are worthy of my presence. You are very lucky, you realize." Kresk began to chuckle, "Masqued Lord, you thought I would make my entrance with a snack? That's like saying a thunderstorm shouldn't come with lightning. No, when I want to be known to Half-A-Man, I'll-"

"What?", Raven asked with a puzzled expression. Kresk suddenly realized he owed Raven an explanation. Kresk pressed onward, "Oh right, yes, uh, the staff and I have taken the liberty of applying some names to your roomates. Over there-" he pointed to Cyborg, "- is Half-A-Man since he is, quite obviously, half a man. And the one you call 'Robin', we refer to him as the Boy Blunder, since quite obviously he has to many stains on his record as a leader to be anything else. And little miss sunshine over there-", he pointed to Starfire, "-we refer to as Bimbo Fantastic. We all hate her. She's just so _crazitedly_ happy all the time. Disgusting. And that, thing, at the end,-" he pointed to Beast Boy, "-we didn't think was worthy of a title, so we just call him Stupid. It seems fitting."

Raven almost laughed. A smile broke out on her face for a second. Kresk remarked cheerfully, "That's the first time I've seen you smile. You need to do it more often.

Someone as young and alive as you shouldn't spend all her time reading old dusty books and wearing that dower face." Raven then realized something. "Wait, you and the staff have been watching us?"

"Oh, yeah. Constantly. You humans lead such fascinating lives, and the world has changed so much since we last had contact with it. It's become so much more delisciously...corrupt. We love this new world. Chaos and evil spread like wildfire, and we get the best of it. For instance, take this 'internet' of yours. Back in my day, if you wanted illegal dealings of any nature, you had to do it that old-fashioned way of travelling and hiding in shadows. But with this 'internet', a few clicks of a button I can sell gods-know-what to gods-know-who anytime, anywhere. Brilliant!" Raven was still somewhere between wonder and shock, "Wait a second. If I can see you, how come I didn't notice you walking around earlier?"

"I told you. I only make myself known when I wish it. I can pass through these halls as silent as an unholy church mouse."

"How can you even get into my home?"

"It's basic paranormal etiquette, my naieve girl. _Mi casa, su casa_. You allowed me to enter your home, and I allowed you to enter mine. Ergo, I can come and go as I choose. If you don't want demons in your home, don't invite them in. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to leave before the morning arguments begin. Your friends bickering can be tracked to a schedule." Raven called out as Kresk walked away, "Wait! What do you mean by 'the staff'? I mean, I've seen you, and Janys, and that pig-demon-"

"His name is Bormulk."

"Right, whatever. But other than them I havn't seen anybody else. And Bor-whatever is too big to go around unnoticed, invisible or not, and Janys never leaves her bowl. Who else is there?"

"Well, for starts there's my familiar, the quasit Nickis. He's usually wandering through the vents of this place looking for gossip. If you ever see something that looks like a hairless green spider-monkey with wings, horns, and a foul mouth, that's probably him. Then there's the dretches. They're short and ugly, look something like a mix between a chimp, a mule, and a lizard. I've got dozens of 'em, so if one gives you lip, kill it to make it an example to the others. And then there are the succubi sisters. They ought to be floating around here somewhere."

"What do they look like. I've heard of succubi before, but never actually seen one."

"Oh, you can't miss 'em. You really can't." Kresk said this with a satisfied and content look. "They're gorgeous little creatures. Busty, lusty, and oh-so deadly. A single kiss can kill. I've heard stories where they suck souls right out of a man's mouth. Not a bad way to die, if you ask me. They're my couriers, and they love their job. They get paid handsomely, get to see the Lower Planes, meet up with demonic nobility and blow off their money in Sigil the rest of the time."

"You still havn't gotten to what they look like."

"Look for two, _very _attractive young women, with a few tell-tale marks of their heirtage. Wings, horns, tail, yellow or red eyes, the works. They're where I get most of my gossip from. Those are just a few. I have a bunch more flittering around here for me. Keep your eyes open, you might learn something. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting in Thanatos with Orcus, and he gets grumpy when anybody is late."

Kresk began to walk away, only to interuppted once again. Raven asked to Fire Demon, his back still facing her, "Do you happen to know anything about a girl named Tera?" Kresk angrily and slowly turned around. "You mean Blonde Judas. Yeah, I know about her. She nearly killed me."

"_What_?"

"When you and your little buddies did a disappearing act for a while and she turned stag and ran the city with that Slade fellow, she and I had a little fight. Oh, she was clever. She beat me by mixing holy dirt with water to form a kind of mud. When that was said and done she dropped that on me. It took months for me to grow back most of my skin. And even the other three Arcanists couldn't beat her. Bert didn't want to fight her. But we had to. I wanted to, but still. If she kept misusing her power, she could have shifted the elemental balance and killed everyone. It was neutralize her or gain control of her. But she's dead now! She's a statue, and that's all that matters! I did not win but neither did she, so it was a victory in my eyes. Still, if her slumber should ever be reversed, I would kill her on sight. But I doubt that will happen." His voice began to rise in fervor and tone. "She is a traitor, and all traitors go to Nessus. There she will rot in Malsheem and I can take comfort in knowing that she is the slave of Asm-"

Kresk suddenly stopped mid-sentence. He covered his mouth, and looked about in fear. Raven asked, "Asm-who? What are you talking about?" Kresk stared at her fearfully, and whispered, "I cannot speak his name. If I do, he may hear me. And if he hears me, he may turn his eye upon me. I do not want to draw his attention. Those who do may suffer a fate worse than death. He is an old terrible thing, this being. Even the King of Demons, Demogorgon, does not idly tarry around him. I bid you farewell child. Forget what you just heard, lest you find truths too dark for man. I will return in my own time, probably when you need a friend the most."

At that, Kresk slunk into the shadows, still paranoid at the unnamed evil. Raven turned around. The rest of the world remained unchanged, and yet now she would never view it the same. There were wheels within wheels spinning, and it appeared she had just become one.


	4. Chapter 4: A Menagerie of Nightmares

_From childhood's hour I have not been_

_As others were-I have not seen_

_As others saw-I could not bring_

_My passions from a common spring-_

_From the same source I have not taken_

_My sorrow-I could not awaken_

_My heart to joy at the same tone-_

_And all I lov'd-I lov'd alone-_

_Then-in my childhood-in the dawn_

_Of a most stormy life-was drawn_

_From ev'ry depth of good and ill_

_The mystery which binds me still..._

_From the thunder and the storm-_

_And the cloud that took the form_

_(When the rest of Heaven was blue)_

_Of a demon in my view._

-Edgar Allen Poe.

'Alone'

Over the course of the next year, Raven and Kresk started to become good friends. She still saw him wandering around the tower every now and then, and disapproved of the mischief he caused (curdling milk, displacing valuable items, or just stealing them; whatever took his fancy, usually the general archaic tricks that still seemed to cause the most annoyance), but otherwise the two were developing a bond. He made her smile every now and then, and two or three times got her to laugh (He was quoted on saying that Beast Boy 'Needs to listen to a tape while he sleeps to remind himself to breathe'). When Raven was sad, he would show up and do his best to cheer her up. Sometimes he would just show up and teach her about the Abyss and different kinds of magic; how to summon monsters from the Outer Planes of existence (one of the proudest moments of Kresk's life was when Raven stared in awe when she summoned her first monster; would you believe a demonic raven?). Sometimes he would just burn something and watch the pyre until it was gone. Kresk had an obessesion with fire; he was drawn to it like like a moth to a flame (no pun intended).

But Raven still did not trust Kresk. She still suspected him of something, and feared what he might awaken within her more than ever. For when ever he taught her melee, or dark magic, she could feel the Demon inside her shift. It talked to her, lived through her. Sometimes, she would let go, and forget moments of her life, let the Demon inside take control. And what was really horrible, what really scared her, what really made her distrust Kresk;

It felt so right, so right to be two beings at once, herself and the Demon.

So when her birthday drew nearer, closer like a gargantuan roc blotting out the joy of her life, the existence, possibly the existence of the world, she avoided Kresk if she could. And she couldn't help but notice, Kresk was avoiding her. And when they did meet, he always asked unusual questions. Well, at least for Kresk, like 'What size dress are you again?' or 'Which would you prefer; black or red?' After a while, they stopped talking altogether. They saw each other in the halls, Kresk mindlessly scribbling in his black book, where he kept track of the various favors he owed Demonic Nobility and what they owed him.

Then, Raven's birthday came.

Raven sat gloomily in the living room. It was 2:45 A.M. on the day after (or night of, or morning of; matter of perspective thing don't you know?) her birthday. No one else was awake. It was official; it was the end of the world. Well, nothing to do now but sit back and accept oblivion. It was taking its own sweet time, that was for sure. Her friends, and she would never tell them this, had done a lousy job of cheering her up. Of course, there really is no good way to say 'sorry, your going to kill us all'. But still...

She put her face in her hands, and began to cry. Why her? Why did it have to be her? Why was she cursed with this existence? Why couldn't it be someone else on another world? She closed her eyes, and sobbed some more. Then, she felt someone sit next to her. Someone almost eight feet tall that smelled like brimstone. Kresk said, in the most comforting voice he could muster, "Hey, come on now. What's the matter?" Raven stared up at the demon, who suddenly seemed so old all of the sudden. Of all the people (sort of) to see right now...

"Go away Kresk.", she sobbed.

"Ah come on, it can't be that bad, whatever it is. Just tell me all about it. Whatever it is I've probably heard worse before." And so Raven explained Trigon, about the doom of the world, about the prophecy. When she was done, she couldn't help but notice that Kresk was holding back a laugh. He snickered, "That's something all right.", he almost chuckled. He wasn't helping, to say the least. Kresk stood up, and said, "Kid, come with me." Raven stood up and followed Kresk over to the window that overlooked the city. He said, "You see that world, Raven? At any given time, there are at least a couple dozen apocalypses and doomsdays threatening this planet. Maybe it's a volcano, maybe it's aliens, maybe it's a mega-plague, but whatever it is, chances are it won't do anything except disappear. You think you're going to destroy the world just because someone said so on your birthday? Kid, I'm a demon, a tanar, a herald of destruction! Key-word there, _destruction_. I know all about apocalypses and doom and gloom, and I don't recall seeing you anywhere. And now that I know what a fantastic young woman you are, I think that counts as a loss. I've missed out on someone extraordinary, who makes a very good apprentice."

He said this with a smile, and, inside, Raven felt a little better. Sometimes, it felt good to hear words of comfort come straight from the horse's (or demon's) mouth. She smiled a bit, and hugged Kresk. Of course she only came up to barely his waist, but the gesture didn't go unnoticed. "Ah, stop it, you're embarassing me. Now come on, I've got something else to show you." As Kresk walked towards the door, Raven followed, and asked, trying not to offend her mentor (of sorts) , "Kresk, how come I look different from you? If you're a demon, and I am least half-one, why don't I have scales or claws or wings?"

Kresk looked at her and grinned, "Luck, I guess. But I wouldn't be so quick to say that you don't have those features. They're there. They're just hidden. You have horns, they're just waiting to sprout where you have a widow's peak. You walk with grace, like you are trying to prove you don't walk on cloven hooves. When you wrap your cloak around you, your wings are showing. You move your hips like you have a forked tail, even when you don't realize it. Your eyes glow like they should be yellow, and your skin is too pale, like it's trying to bleach out the red. Your hands shake every now and then, like they're trying to grow claws, and you coat yourself with perfume to hide the smell of brimstone. In short, you have all the features of a demon, every single one. They show all the time. They're in every little thing you do. And that reminds me, I can't go out like this." Kresk looked at himself.

Indeed, he did draw more than a little attention. Kresk looked at Raven and asked, "Would you mind if I borrowed one of your friends for a moment?"

Raven replied puzzlingly, "Sure?"

"Great, this won't take too long." Kresk shook his hands and popped his neck. Then he concentrated. He began to shrink, until he was a little taller than Raven. His horns fell down into a mane of red hair, his eyes turned green and lost their cat-like irises, and his skin took on an orange hue. He began to develop a figure, and his robes became purple. Soon, within moments, a perfect replica of Starfire stood before Raven. Kresk said, his voice still his own, "Alright, now we can-wait a second, that's not right." He pounded his chest and coughed. Finally his voice morphed into the piping notes of Starfire's. "Testing, testing. Hello, I'm disgustingly cheerful all the time, and one of these day I'm going to drink a gallon of bleach after I save a box of kittens! No, that's not right. It's too simple, not innocent enough. Close though, but not close enough. What would she say?"

Raven looked at Kresk disapprovingly, "I wish you wouldn't talk about my friends that way." Kresk smiled and said,

"We only lie loudest to ourselves, Raven. Now follow me."

Kresk hovered down the hall, complaining the whole way, "I feel so weak in this body. A dretch could rip through it. And I don't like flight. It feels weird not hearing my hooves." Down the hall, down the stairs, over the water to the city shore. Finally, after a long enough time, Kresk proclaimed, "Oh that's it! I'm walking for the rest of this trip. I can't stand fluttering around like a hummingbird!" He landed on his feet and walked through the streets of the city. Even in the darkest hour of the night, the city pulsed with a heartbeat of electricity and sound. Raven couldn't help but notice that Kresk was leading her through one of the darker parts of the city, near the docks. In the distance, dogs barked like they did for Hecate in the ancient times, and the cyclopean buildings leered with dead eyes at her. But the city itself was still alive. People wandered and argued for the darkness, like marionettes performing for the night god Nyx, and stopped to watch as Raven and 'Starfire' passed by.

Finally, Raven piped up, "Kresk, where is it we're going again?" Kresk looked back and answered, grinning (to the best he could in his disguise) , "'Over the mountains of the moon, and down the valley of shadow. Ride boldly ride,' the shade replied, 'if you seek for Eldorado.'"

Raven stared, "What?" Kresk turned around, "Seriously, read the street signs." Raven looked at the corner which bore a lone, gnarled lamp post bearing two equally gnarled signs on it. One said Valley Rd., the other Mountain Blvd.

They were near the docks. There were shady buildings with equally shady folk wandering and flitting around. She saw a large digital clock in the window of an old pawn shop named 'Randall's'. It said 3:03 A.M. It was 3 o'clock in the morning, the hour of demons. Just then, she noticed that Kresk was walking over to a decrepit building. It was old, but not too old, seated between two younger, taller structures, a occult bookstore painted green and a diner with three guard dogs sleeping in front of the door. While the younger buildings were made of concrete and steel, this place was made of aged red brick. It had no windows, save for a skylight on the roof, no vents going out, and one chimney. There was one entrance on the front, a simple push-handle steel door. Above this, was a sign showing Don Quixote in full armor riding towards a golden city on a white charger. The ground was made of large yellow letters spelling out, Eldorado. Another door which even Kresk in his full size could have fit through was guarded by a giant of a man on the side of the building. Kresk lead Raven to this door. The man truly was huge, with burly arms a bald head, a piglike face, and a shirt that bore the image of a huge mouth with pincers on the side. He held a list in one hand, the pen in the other, and an axe and gun in its holster on his side.

He held up his hand as the approached the door. "Whoa ladies. Private party. If you aren't on the list, you don't get in." Kresk, as Starfire, looked indignant, and said, "What? Don't you know who I am? I'm the mastermind behind this little shindig! Now let me - Oh right, I still have the voice." He pounded his chest and coughed loudly. His voice returned to normal. He continued his barrage, "Now as I was saying, I am Kreskarius Voneitz! Let me through. I do have the-" Kresk said something in Abyssal that Raven couldn't understand. The man looked at him, and heartily replied, "Ah, yes, we were expecting you! Please come in! And-" The man snickered, "-Does that dress come in men's sizes?" He burst out laughing. Kresk looked at himself. "Oh right, I probably should get back to my old skin." He stood straight as he could, held his nose, and took a deep breath. In an instant, Kresk's true form ripped from Starfire's shape like it was old fabric.

He went through the door first, and Raven followed. Down a hallway, black and rank with mildew she walked behind Kresk. She couldn't see anything, but then, she heard something. Music. A violent music, a music full of life and rage and passion, a music that danced with her heartbeat. Then the two came to a door. Kresk put his hand on to the entryway, looked down at Raven, smiled, and said, "Get ready for this." He opened the door, and there, beyond, in a huge room, was a menagerie of nightmares. The door led to a grated platform which circled the entire room. A set of stairs led to the main floor. Tables were spread about, on and below the platform. Impossible doors went into the walls, and a stage lay at the far end of the square room. The skylight above provided light by moon, and was complimented by flashing purple, green, blue, and red illuminations. But it was not the room itself, it was its occupants. Demons. And not just any demons, demonic nobility. There, demon princes and lords of all shapes and sizes cavorted in the room, laughing and yelling and roaring in an ecstasy to put any witche's sabbath to shame. Raven looked around at the sheer myriad of forms. Emerald-eyed Grazzt, Master of Shadows and Eloquence, flirted with Nocticula, Queen of Night, Witches, and Nature. Socothbenoth, Lord of Pleasure and Perversion, danced with seductive Malacanthet, Queen of the Succubi. Gluttonous Orcus, Prince of Undeath, quipped with his rival Gamigin, the Soulcounter, and Ahrimanes, Lord of Exiles and the Cacodaemons. Jubilex, Prince of Slime and Ooze, gurgled with cancerous Marbas, King of Disease and Tumors. Zuggtmoy, Queen of Fungi, snarled at Lolth, Matron Goddess of spiders and dark elves. In the corner, Baba Yaga cackled with Baphomet, Prince of Minotaurs, and Aseroth, the Winter Warlock. Yeenoghu, emaciated god of gnolls, barked with Mormo, King of Ghouls, and Merrshaulk, god of the yuan-ti and snakes. In a tank that should have held fish, Vepar, Master of Angry Waves, conversed with Blidooploop, goddess of the kuo toa, while Sess'innek, Demon Prince of lizardmen, watched through wrathful reptilian eyes. A gaggle of demon lords of murder and pain sat and talked of vile things at a nearby table; dove-headed Shax, his servant Rahu the Tormenter, Alvarez and Eldanoth snickering in jest.

Dozen of legends, old gods, and monstrosities sat and celebrated in decadent, hedonistic delight as dretches and succubi passed out food and drink to the horrid guests. On the stage, frog-like hezrou, six-armed, serpent waisted mariliths, dog-headed and four-armed glabrezu, and other demons played a war beat to drums and gongs of stupendous girth.

And what force could cause this unholy sabbath? What being could possibly bring mortal enemies such as these creatures to put aside their enmities and revel in the night? Who was this stupendous being, whoever they may be? And why, why did they do it? What could do what even the Demogorgon, Prince of All Demons (who presently was swimming in the aforementioned tank like a shark, its two heads leering), could not do and unite the Demon Princes, even if just for a night?

Raven felt Kresk lightly elbow her, and shove a box into her hands. He looked down from the side of his eyes, smiled a cheerful smile, and said, "Happy birthday, Raven." She looked up at him, with an expression that begged, 'This was for her? All of this? Kresk actually cared enough to pull favors out of the Demonic Nobility, just for her?' "You go find a seat. I have some business to attend to." He whistled over to someone, and said something in Abyssal. "Astaroth will take care of you. You'll like him. He's a bit eccentric, but he's a bookworm like you. In fact, he's _the_ bookworm. His layer is the single largest library in the multiverse, with at least one copy of every book every printed."

Presently, an odd figure approached the duo. A handsome man, tall and regal. He bore six feathered angel's wings, and wrapped them around his body like a cloak. A sinuous dragon followed him like a pet. He held a book in one hand, and a viper coiled around the other. Kresk began introductions, "Raven, Astaroth, Demon Prince of occult lore, liberal sciences, books, philosophy, dark and hidden knowledge, herald of the apocalypse, and one of the smarter of the Demiurge." Astaroth looked over at Kresk, and spoke in a light, flute of a voice, "Oh Kresk, stop, you'll embarass me. So, this is your young apprentice that you told me about? I can smell order and good on her, but it is a refreshing scent. Especially when you've been standing next to Marbas like I have." He turned his attentions to Raven, and extend the viper-bearing hand, "Salutations! I believe Kresk made the introductions." Raven put her hand forward cautiously. The viper hissed at her and slithered some more. Astaroth saw her suspiscion and smiled a light smile, "Oh, ignore him. He's purely symbolic, he won't do you any harm. He represents knowledge gained through forbidden means, one of the greatest virtues anyone can hold."

"Quit bragging Astaroth. Just get the girl to a seat and-" at this point, Kresk started talking in Abyssal, although it sounded like a threat ("- if so much as one hair on her head gets damaged, I will blame you and personally rip your favorite spellbooks to shreds. Got that? Now go!") Astaroth led Raven to an out-of-the-way table, somewhere between where Behemoth gorged and locust demons of Apollyon chirped their apocalypse song. Mean while, Astaroth tittered on about nothing in particular. For a demon prince, he was rather friendly, and talkative. Kresk took center stage when the last piece of music was done.

He shouted out to the fiendish throng, unnoticed at first, "Is everybody happy?", he yelled with a resounding boom. The crowd looked back at him, and howled, roared, bellowed, screamed, yelled, hissed, and gurgled back a joyous response. Up in the rafters, Raven heard the screeches of Harpies and Vrocks, Decarabia and Pazuzu, rulers of the Abyssal skies. And how could they not be happy? Kresk was renowned for excellent parties. They always featured the hardest liquor, the most delicious food, and the most pleasurable company. He was liked among all the Abyssal nobility for his pranks and dark sense of humor, and even the less popular members of the fiendish court got along with him (you must understand this was no simple feat; it took years of hard work, bribes, and blackmail to achieve). Several creatures called and bellowed out "Speech!" And Kresk obliged. He spoke in Abyssal, the native tongue required for the night.

"Friends! Tanar'ri! Masters and servants alike! Lend me your ears! TONIGHT, a lost lamb returns to her flock! TONIGHT, we live again and revel in the darkness! TONIGHT, we celebrate the heralding of the 666th prophecy of Raum! TONIGHT, we fill the air with our screams! TONIGHT, mortals scream knowing we walk the earth once more! We are the horrors of the Abyss, the kings of darkness! No power thrives with the sheer energy of life like us! No being fills the night air with the screams of death and change like us! Let Heaven and Hell shake, for TONIGHT, the Abyss rises once more! Hail the Tanar! Hail the demonic! Now let us embrace life as it should be! Live tonight, for tommorrow we may die! And seeing you all here tonight, so happy, so entoxicated with delight, so dishonest with your masks of lies, just because I asked it, it reminds me of what good friends I have in all of you. And it reminds me, I am glad I found you all, for you redeemed me with what I needed most; SIN! Bravo! Let this show that no one is above falling to the greatest power of all! And let me say this; if this is sin, I'd hate to see salvation! Now, when mortals scream and fear in the night, who is it they beg for mercy?" The mob shouted, in Abyssal "TANAR!"

"When the power is what fools get the taste for, who's cup do they drink from?" Once more, "TANAR!" And, one last time, "And who, who will be the kings of the multiverse? Who will achieve total supremacy in the end days? Who is still supreme even now, working in the shadows?"

"TANAR!" After this last stanza, he let out a triumphant roar, and the crowd roared with him, and the night air was filled with the sounds of demons and power.


	5. Chapter 5: A Night at Eldorado I

_Energy is eternal delight._

-William Blake

After Kresk's speech, Raven sat at the table for a moment and watched the horrid mob. Kresk stayed on stage and raised his arms, enjoying his praise for his patriotic speech. "He's showing off again. The ham." Astaroth said, stroking the viper that now had an eased look on its face (as far as a snake can anyway). All good things come to an end though, and so Kresk bowed so low it almost seemed an insult. He raised his hand into the air, and brought it down in the swiftest of motions. At this, a fireball erupted on the stage, and Kresk had disappeared. The next act started to come on (a lilitu trio), and Raven looked around for Kresk. She looked at Astaroth and asked, "Where is he?"

"I'm right here of course." Kresk was now sitting at the table as if he had been there the whole time. Raven asked, "What was it you said down there to get everyone so excited?" Astaroth looked a little shocked and said to Kresk, "My dear Kresk, you mean to say you've known this girl for a year now and you havn't taught her Abyssal? Shame on you!"

"Ah, don't get feathers ruffled up about it, Diabolus. If it's any help, I havn't taught her Draconic either." Astaroth looked ill. "Ignorance is a sin, Kresk."

"And I'm the type of man who's a sinner more than sinned. Cheers." He put a bottle to his lips and swallowed deep and hard. At first Raven thought it was a drink, but then she saw the label; Arsenic. He looked over at Raven when he was done with the bottle. "So kid, how's your birthday so far, aside from the (restraining a laugh) apocalypse thing?" Raven just looked at him for a moment, "I just can't believe you would do all this for me. It just seems so out of the way, everyone, err, (she watched the snot colored, amorphous Jubilex gurgle and writhe with cancerous Marbas) thing, here for me."

"Whoa whoa whoa, first rule about demons and parties, kiddo. Demons serve themselves. They aren't necessarilly here for you, they're here because there's a party with free stuff. That and they have to pay my annual fees that they owe me for the last forty years. What really qualifies this as your birthday party is that they only have to pay one year's fee and a gift to my new apprentice, ergo you, although some of them might just pay their fees since they find it demeaning to give anything to a human, but opinions might change if they find out your'e only _half_ human And that reminds me, open your gift." She had almost forgotten about the box she had been clutching for a while now. She opened it gently. Past paper to preserve color were two spectacular items. One was a gold medallion that bore Kresk's symbol, his claw with his in the palm and an Abyssal rune on the wrist. The other gift, was far more eloquent; it was a silk dress that looked like it was made of flame. Oranges, yellows, and reds danced across the surface, and just moving it seemed to make the design dance across the surface.

Kresk chuckled. He could tell she was impressed by the dress, even though she would never admit it. "Kid, we need to work on your wardrobe. Now, granted, you have done an incredible amount with that dark leotard of yours in the past sixteen years, and it is indeed good for just about anything. Anything except making a statement with the higher class. So here, until you get your feet with these higher cutters where you can do as damn well please, something to say you exist. And you don't even have to pay the music on this one." Raven looked up at Kresk, " Kresk, thanks. But I really don't need this -"

"Oh, yes you do. Go on, it was custom fit for ya', and it feels great to the touch." Indeed, it felt like every good warm sensation in the world; a lover's hot breath, a bowl of warm soup on a winter's day, sunlight in a dark forest. "Just try it once. If you don't like it, I can find another use for it. It doubles-" He touched it slightly, "- as a summoning focus." He spoke in Abyssal. A small burst of flame erupted on the table. Astaroth held the book he was reading to his chest like it was his own child. A salamander from the Plane of Fire slithered around. It roiled and hissed, and eventually slithered off the floor to hide in a heat vent. It would have made it, if Astaroth's dragon hadn't swallowed it whole.

"You still havn't told me why you did all this for me." Kresk looked at Raven, another bottle of arsenic in his hand, "Alot of reasons. For starts, your'e my friend and my apprentice, and that is title that dosn't come easy. Second, this is the kind of thing my masters did for me on my sixteenth birthday. Sixteen is a lucky year; if it ends with six, it's good luck in the Abyss. I also need to get alot of my ties back with the court, so this is the best opportunity. And finally, if I didn't do this, who would? You're a special girl Raven, with proud tanar blood in your veins (Raven wished Kresk wouldn't bring this up; her heritage was really something she wanted to forget, not for Kresk to gloat over), you deserve nothing less than the best. And that reminds me. Astaroth, what's your 'tribute' to the evening?" Astaroth closed the book he was reading. He shoved it to Raven, with the slightest of care.

She read the title; The Raven and Other Poems by Edgar Allen Poe. She had lost her first copy, and had been looking at bookstores for a new one, but this was unlike any she had ever seen. For starters, it was written in real ink. Then it dawned on her. Astaroth owned a copy of every book ever made. This was the first copy of The Raven ever printed, the first edition. Astaroth smiled at the awe she saw in the book, "Kresk told me you have a thing for Poe. Don't worry about it being the first edition and all. I have dozens more floating around the archive somewhere." She looked at the book for a moment and took a second to realize that Astaroth was pulling another feather from his wing and magically changing it to another book. Kresk laughed again as Astaroth held a particularly old copy of the Dictionaire Infernale and looked up his own entry, "Don't you ever get tired of reading that thing? You've flipped through it at least five hundred times now!"

"Five hundred and twenty three times to be precise. And I can't help it if I love books. The other demons, especially you, you filthy arsonist, would do well to read more."

"We read. In fact, as I recall, you were one of my tutors in my starting days in the Abyss. But still, trying to read every book in existence like you do gets boring after a while. Besides, you need to live a little. My other tutors taught me that. And speak of the devils, here they are." Kresk whistled. Two creatures waddled and strutted to the table.

One was a tall, wiry man, pale and incredibly handsome in a dark way. He didn't wear a shirt, only six rings that pierced his chest. His long neck was topped by a chiseled face with long dark brown hair and alabastor eyes. It would have been perfect, if not for the two donkey's ears that came from the side of his head. His tight black pants blended seemlessly with his dark leather shoes, and overall the way he moved, from the sway of his neck to the saunter of his hips made him look like a snake on legs. Socothbenoth, Demon Prince of Pleasure and Perversion, had arrived.

The second being was a chimaera from a child's fairy tale. A lion's head with a human look to its expressions topped an otherwise masculine torso. Below the chest, goose legs, scaled and webbed, moved ridiculously. The creature wore the finest noble's clothes, a wide-brimmed hat with an ostritch feather stuck in it, and a rapier swayed at its side. It's back had small, feathered wings on it, and to complete the oddity was a rabbit's tail. Ipos, the Masqued Lord, Demon Prince of Actors, Comedians, Entertainment, and the Stage waddled with a feline smile towards the table.

Kresk stood up and smiled at the two demons. He spread his arms and gave an affectionate hug to the two "Ipos! It's been too many years now. How have you been holding up my old friend?" Ipos purred in a cheerful, naturally mocking tone, "Well enough, obviously. How have you been is the real question. What happened? You slept right through the eighties. You weren't missing anything, but still, the Abyss wasn't the same without you. I had to talk to Soc for god's sake!" Kresk laughed and turned his attention to the handsome man, "And how has life treated you, you old cradle thief?" Socothbenoth looked a little offended, and spoke in a sultry voice "Old? I look twice as young as you!" Kresk laughed back, "And you act like it to! Have a seat, you two. But first, I want you to meet somebody. Ipos, Soc, this is my apprentice Raven."

Ipos took a bow, removing his hat, "Pleasure to meet you. It's an honor to meet the pupil of my pupil." Socothbenoth took a more romantic approach. "Well, you're a lot prettier than Kresk to be sure. Why he got such a lovely young thing as yourself for an apprentice while I had to look at his ugly face every day, I'll never know. Happy to meet you." He took Raven's hand in his and gently kissed it. Raven felt herself grow a little red. Kresk said in a still cheerful voice, "Ah, lay off the charms for the night. It's time to take off our masks for an evening." Ipos smiled, "Oh Kresk. We always wear masks, we have to. All the world is a stage, and every man a player. You know that, I taught it to you." Astaroth coughed "Cliche." Ipos gave him a reproachful look. Kresk heartily said, "Thank you, Astaroth. You need a new line Ipos. Shakespeare was either the worst or the greatest thing to happen to you. There's a stage on the main floor; if you want to put on a show, do it there."

Ipos sat down, mopey and defeated. Kresk reached inside a pocket on his robes, "Ah, cheer up. You know the dark of it. Besides, I've got cat-niip." Kresk pulled out a raggedy looking toy mouse. "You know that stuff dosn't work on me Kresk. I only have a cat _head_." Even as he said this, his feline eyes watched as the mouse swayed in Kresk's claws. Kresk smiled again, "As you like it." The rodent disappeared in flames. Ipos withheld a gasp, Astaroth once again clutched the book he was reading to him, and Soc grinned maliciously. Socothbenoth and Ipos sat down.

Kresk, Ipos, and Astaroth chattered on in Abyssal, but Raven and Socothbenoth remained relatively silent. Every now and then, Raven thought Socothbenoth was staring at her, but it was hard to tell. His eyes were completely white, after all. The thought that anyone as handsome as him would look at her made Raven blush a little. Playing the part of the 'pretty girl' was unfamiliar territory on her part. That was usually Starfire's niche; to be the beautiful damsel in distress, the one every boy looked at whenever she went by. It came with being dark, she supposed. Nobody ever said that someone was as beautiful as shadows, or radiant as the moon. 'But then again,' she thought, 'I'm not with just anybody'. Soc said, smiling a serpentine grin, "That's right, you're not." Raven looked at him, "Have you been reading my thoughts?"

"Well, yes (feigning shame; for the concept was completely unknown to him). And personally, they're making me blush." Raven looked down a little, "I'm sorry, I'm just not used to being the center of attention."

"Don't be sorry. If it feels right, it must be right; that's my philosophy. And right now," he placed his hand on Raven's, his fingers slithering between hers, "you are so very right. Your'e very beautiful, Raven, don't ever believe otherwise." Raven's eyes met his, and she felt herself turn red.

"Oh Soc, I'm so glad you think so." In an instant, Kresk had magically switched places with Raven. Socothbenoth tried to recoil, but found Kresk's iron grip to be near impossible to escape. Kresk smiled at Soc, "Now I'm gonna ask you nicely, cradle-thief, you gonna lay off on my apprentice or am I gonna' have to bring down the thunder on you?"

"What, can't I do a little casual flirting?" Ipos laughed, "You never do any 'casual' flirting! We all know what's on your mind!"

"I concur." Astaroth piped in. Soc looked over at the angelic demon, "Oh shut up, book worm."

"Don't speak to a superior that way, Soc."

"Or what?" Astaroth smiled at Kresk. "Kresk, honors." The Fire Demon smiled, "Of course, _sir_." He looked at Socothbenoth, "I told ya' I'd bring down the thunder on you." Kresk whistled looking over the platform, "Hey, Grazzt! Soc here says he's more man than you!" A shout in the crowd, "What?! That little worm won't be talking long!" A small entourage moved towards the stairs. Kresk leaned back in his chair and grinned. Soc looked terrified, his donkey ears drooping into his dark hair, "I take it back, you win!" Kresk shook his head, "You're the one who said that if it feels good, it must be good. Well right now, I am feeling _so_ good."

As Kresk waited for the slowly moving entourage that was steadily growing larger, he looked over at Ipos and asked, "Hey, where's Flauros? I invited him in person."

"He couldn't make it. He sends his regards though." Kresk looked a little disappointed. He turned towards Raven, "I wanted you to meet all my masters. Flauros was one of my favorites. He's the one who made me a _fire_ demon. Taught me how to _use_ fire. Do you remember what I taught you about elementalism? I learned that from him. Remember, all life is energy trapped in a shell, when we use fire-" Raven finished the sentence "-we make life as it should be."

Raven formed an orb of shadow in her hand. She concentrated on it bit, found the energy of life in herself, the unlimited well-spring of existence. She focused that energy, gathered it to the single orb of shadow. In a moment, it was a ball of black fire. She watched it dance in her hand. And as she stared into the flame's heart, she remembered the first time she used her blackfire, the first time Kresk taught her to generate it, the first time she tapped into the living source, the first step in being reborn.


	6. Chapter 6: Playing With Fire

_7 Months Earlier_

Raven sat on her bed and listened to Kresk talk. The Fire Demon had stopped by for one of his visits. Somewhere along the lines, the subject of fire got involved somehow. "Remember, all life is energy trapped within a shell. When we use fire, we make life as it should be. These are the teachings of Flauros, Son of Suns." He lit a fireball in his hands while saying this, and watched the flare's heart. As the pyre burned, he stared into its core, and the flames danced and reflected on his eyes so that they looked like two pools of orange light. Raven looked at Kresk, and asked, disbelieving the demon's statement, "But if all life is energy, shouldn't you burn yourself to achieve a higher level existence then?" Kresk closed his fist and the fireball disappeared. "It is our duty to be the ones who release that energy. If I killed myself, who would do all the burning for me? Besides, I'm already a creature of fire. I am as life intended me, therefore."

"So, basically, you're just saving your skin by finding a philosiphical loop-hole?" Kresk thought about it for a moment, and said, honestly, "Yeah, that's pretty much it." Raven rolled her eyes amd went back to the book she was reading. Kresk lit another fire-ball in his hand. He watched it burn, and then produced another in the opposite hand. He tossed the first fireball into the air and quickly followed it with the second. Soon, he was juggling the two around. Finally, he tossed both up. Kresk opened his mouth, and caught the two in his maw. He closed his mouth and swallowed. Smoke came out of his nostrils, and his eyes began to water. Raven almost looked up. "Oh, _bravo_." Kresk said, his voice dry and strained, "Thank you." He coughed, and spit out embers and smoke. "How do you do that?", Raven asked, still reading her book. Kresk cracked, "It takes alot of practice and luck. You don't want to see what happens when I miss."

"Not that. How do you generate the fire? You just do it so naturally."

"Because it is natural. Girl, were you listening to anything I said? Fire is the energy of life. Using fire is just as simple as tapping that energy. It is creation, it is destruction. It is life, death, and rebirth. Once you know how to do that, you have the ultimate power of the spheres at your disposal."

"You still havn't actually said how you do it."

"Oh gods below, nothing gets through that brain-box of yours does it? The fact is, I can't really teach you all that well. You can only teach yourself."

"Oh now you're just dodging it. Can't you at least tell me how _you_ do it? How you tap this 'energy of life'?"

Kresk sighed. "Alright, I see there's no stopping you. Now listen and listen carefully. Keep on your toes here. Fire is a dangerous and powerful element. It isn't for novices to mess with. One wrong move and you won't be Raven, you'll be fried chicken. However, don't think for an instant that this means flames are bound by rules. Fire is life and unpredictability, all at once a free and explosive energy and pinned-up force waiting to break free like a river from a dam. It is-"

"Is this going anywhere?"

"Alright, alright. Now listen. Concentrate, meditate for a moment. Look deep into yourself. Go past your thoughts, than your feelings, and finally your basest impulses. Look past all those and find the source of energy for all that. Take your time! You don't want to rush this process." Raven closed her eyes and began to meditate. Clearing her thoughts was easy; she did that almost as easily as a fish swims. Then she looked at her feelings. She saw them, her sadness, her fear, her joy. She concentrated on them a bit more, thought and cleared them. Soon they were gone. Or maybe they had simply devolved. Now her darkest and simplest instincts were all that remained. She could feel the source, the warmth inside of her, the pulse of energy that every living thing, including herself, emanated. But she could not get to it directly. She thought, and for a long time meditated, clearing her darker instincts; her rage, her lust, all her passions, all the emotions that everything carries with it. And in a flash, they were gone. But she was not dead inside. On the contrary, Raven had never felt more alive. She had reached the wellspring of life in her, the source of all energy that flowed through her, in a word, existence. And for a moment she touched it. It was...everything. It was every feeling. It was pleasure, it was pain. It was love, it was lust. It was anger and calm, yin and yang. It was wrath and serenity, dancing and dying. It was a concordant energy, an unparalleled ecstacy and misery. Raven wanted it to stop, or maybe she wanted it to continue forever. She felt everything, she felt, she felt...nothing. Cut short.

Raven began to fall. She had been floating in the air for a moment, and Kresk had been watching. He saw her eyes moving while they were shut, smelled the sweat and energy coming off of her, heard her heartbeat go faster and faster. He knew what was happening He caught her as she fell and lay her down on the bed. He waited for a while and made a potion for her with some ingredients he found on her shelves, to ease the pain. Raven murmured, "Wha... What happened?"

"Ah, she wakes! In time, to. I was about to call the morgue. You drank too deep, kiddo. Tried pulling too much energy. Don't worry, it happens to almost everybody their first time. Trust me, from here on out it gets easier. Soon, you probably won't have to meditate to get to the source. All you need, is practice." He handed her the potion, "Here, it'll make it a lot easier to recover. Like I said, don't worry. I'm amazed you're as well as you are. I nearly got killed the first time I tried that."

"What pain are you-, AH!" Raven suddenly got what Kresk was talking about. She felt like there were burns on the inside of her throat and mouth. It was like that holocaustic center had escaped through her when she touched it and worked its burning hands all along her. She grabbed the potion out of Kresk's claws and drank fast and deep. The potion itself smelled like aloe and tasted like mint. It was ice-cold, and Raven felt the drink work its way down her throat. Kresk let out a hearty chuckle. "Slow down, kid! You're gonna be as cold inside as you are out if you drink that much!"

Raven wanted to protest Kresk's snide comment, but he had a point. She felt herself begin to freeze on the inside. She wrapped herself in the blankets on her bed to the sounds of Kresk chuckling even louder. When she had warmed up again, and Kresk was able to stop laughing, he said to her, "Now, that was a nice first try. Alot of people who try playing with fire wind up a burning husk on the ground. All you got was some internal damage, and that got cleared up rather fast. But you still didn't actually produce any fire. It's gonna take some practice before you can summon up that energy fast enough. Try again. This time, concentrate, try not to fit more in your cup than you can drink."

So again Raven meditated and found the source. But this time, she found it a little faster than the first time. And she didn't fall over or have to drink any weird potions, a definite plus. She still had an odd burning sensation in the back of her throat though. That broke her concentration and she had to quit. Kresk told her to try again, and so she did. And she tried again, and again, and again. After a couple of hours, Raven found that finding the source was like finding the back of her eye-lids. And the burning sensation had left. All that happened was that she felt a pleasant, hot feeling wash over her when she found the source. But if she stayed too long, the feeling would turn into burning and she would faint. After a while, Kresk felt that it was time to move on with training. "Alright, you can find the source fast enough, amazingly fast, truth to tell, but can you use it?" He picked up a book, looked it over, flipped through the pages, and ripped out a sheet. Raven, still keeping her voice calm but repressing a yelp, said, "What did you do that for?"

"Oh, relax. The text was in Draconic anyway. Nobody speaks that language on this planet anymore, except for me and a few other weirdos. (At this statement, every dragon in existence, from Malchior trapped in his book not twenty feet away, to Tiamat, Queen of Evil Dragons in her lair on Avernus, first layer of Hell, to Bahamut, King of Good Dragons in his cloud castle on the second layer of Heaven, one way or another, let out a disgusted shudder. And in his realm within the Concordant Outlands, Io, Father of All Dragons, shed a singular tear. Apparently, this sort of small multiverse spanning event occurs with disturbing frequency.) Now, hold this in your hand." He placed the wad of paper in Raven's hand. "Now, concentrate. Find the energy, the source. Now, focus that. Feel the paper in your palm, which you might want to open by the way, concentrate on it. Direct the energy inside you to that paper wad. Just keep focusing it. Don't try to control it. Just steer it. Think of it like you're trying to steer a river with a sheet of paper. Now feel the paper in your hand, its texture, its size. Now direct that river I was telling you about to the paper. And repeat after me; _kraknec._

"_Kraknec_." Ravent heat coming from her hand. She opened her eyes from where she had been meditating. An ever-so small fireball floated in her hand. Kresk, eyes wide, smiled at the glowing yellow orb. "Brilliant.", he said under his breath. "It took me years to get it just right, and you did it in one day. Simply _brilliant_." Raven herself felt proud of her accomplishment, and inside her, the Demon smiled too. "Uh, Kresk, what do I do with it?"

"Here, hand it to me." Raven held out her hand, and let the burning piece of parchment fall out of her hand and into Kresk's. She was outstanded to see that her hand, her clothers, or anything else on her hadn't burned. Kresk weighed the fireball in his left hand. He produced one of his own, which had a distinctly more orange-red look to it as opposed to Raven golden yellow. He weighed the two like they were fruits, held them up to his eyes like they were gems, and even listened to them like they were clocks out of sync. "Odd. Yours is - differrent. For starts it's not nearly hot enough, it's naturally yellow, and it even sounds lighter, you know, like a soprano."

"Fire has a musical range?"

"Fire-is-life-thing, Raven, fire-is-life-thing."

"Yeah, whatever. So how do I do all those fancy tricks, the flamethrowing and stuff?"

"Well, first off, that'll come to you in time. I taught you how to fish, now go catch something with it. Second, that depends on fuel. You can't make fire without something to burn, at least an amateur can't anyway. You know how I told you how it took me years to generate a perfect fire-ball? Well it took me even longer to learn how to do it without something to burn and magic words. But it makes me wonder. Darkfire they call it, the shadows of flame..."

"What are you talking about?"

"Alright, listen. I want you to try something that I know absolutely nothing about and might just kill you. Supposedly, there are umbramancers, mages who deal with shadows much like yourself, who can supposedly make fire from darkness, darkfire. Bare with me. It's not an original name but it says everything. It's where umbramancy mixes with pyromancy. Supposed to have some weird magical effects, like it can blend with darkness and set shadows on fire and stuff like that. Right up your alley. Of course if it goes wrong, especially in your 'shiny' room, we might just all die. Think you want to try?"

"No."

"Oh come on. You won't know until you try. What's the worst that could happen, eh, aside from the obvious?"

"Still no."

"I'll spit in Garfield's breakfast every morning for a week."

"Deal."

"That's what I like to hear! I knew I could win over your maliscious streak yet. Now form one of those little shadow things in your hand."

"Are you sure this is safe?"

"Absolutely. And to show you how safe it is I'm going to go hide behind a three foot thick wall of solid rock and arcane runes over here now." Kresk summoned the wall, exactly as he said, glowing with runes on its monolithic sides. He ran behind it and shouted, giving her a thumbs-up to go with the bark "Alright! Give her the juice! By the way, if you die I'm killing your friends and dragging their souls back to the Abyss for an eternity of torture in the Sea of Salt!"

"WHAT?"

"Nothing!" Raven knew he was kidding (at least she prayed to God that he was), but she was a little unnerved by him hiding behind a magical three-foot thick wall. She concentrated on the ball of shadow in her hand, sensed it, sensed herself, the darkness, the overall feeling. Then, she directed her inner flame towards it, to the best that she could. It 'reached' the fire, but it was struggling. This could not ignite, this was not a real fuel, the fire 'said' to her. Raven struggled to control the pyre, to keep it from flooding out into the world. She felt the shadows in her room falter, their borders wave and start to break, heard Kresk whimper and mutter for Grazz't to protect him from one of his thousand children. No, this wasn't a real fuel, the fire told her again. And Raven talked to herself, or the fire to be more correct. It may not be real fuel, but the fire wasn't real flame, and it existed anyway. She still struggled. Soon her arm began to feel like it was burning. She wasn't going to make it. The darkness in her room danced now, their borders moving and dancing like they were trying to escape from the prisons of perception and burn the world, she could feel it. Kresk prayed to Rhyxali, the Queen of Shadow Demons to send her minions to grab him and save him from the holocaust. Soon, Raven knew, she would lose control and the fire would escape and any spot of darkness, from a the slightest shadow on a sidewalk to a shady spot under a tree would burst into flames and destroy. She felt sweat roll down her face, felt her skin burn. Then, her eyes still closed, she felt someone hold her arm and hand gently, so warmly, so gently, so softly. At first she thought it was Kresk, but then she realized it couldn't be, for even now he was telling Demogorgon that one of his children was coming home.

"Here, let me help." There was something chilling about the voice. It wasn't in her ear, but in her head. It wasn't Trigon's voice, no, it was _her _voice, but it was different somehow. "Just let me help." she said. And suddenly Raven felt the fire come under control. It didn't want to resist, it wanted to become one with the shadow in her hand. Raven opened her eyes and looked at the ball of shadow. It was changing, flickering, morphing into flame. Then she saw the abberant hand that was holding hers, the shocking arm that was running along hers. Like the voice she heard, it was _hers_ but terrifyingly different. She could feel _her_ hot, sulfur tinted breath on the back of her neck, feel _her_ breasts pressing into her back as she drew close to herself, felt _her_ smooth hair next to her head as _her_ chin rested on her shoulder, just out of sight of her vision. But what really horrified her, was the arm's appearance. The hand's nails were more like claws, and were volcanic-rock black. And the skin, dear God, the skin. The skin was a crimson red and covered in fine, smooth scales. "Who are you?" she nervously asked the doppelganger. "I am everything you should have been." she casually told herself. (Confused yet? Good.) At that, the clone disappeared. "Where are you? Where did you go?" she asked herself. "Silly little Raven. I'm always with you. I've always been with you. I'm right here, with daddy."

Every hair on Raven's body stood on end after this. She felt it for a moment; for a moment, she had literally touched something darker, something wicked. For a moment, she touched a monster that lurked inside the inner, labyrinthine reaches of her twisted psyche. For a moment, if just for a brief, godless moment of absolute wonder, she touched _herself_. But what did she mean? "I am everything you should have been." Raven knew what she would be with nihilistic certainty, and she had spent so many countless hours thinking on how things could have been different. But what she should have been? That one little word; should. It perplexed her, drew her into a whirlpool of dizzying and maddening possibility. Her saviour, the life-saver drawing Raven out of his horrible pool (or perhaps dragging her still deeper and faster), emerged sheepishly from behind his barrier. Crouching low and predator-like, practically walking on all fours, Kresk approached Raven's outstretched hand and the ball of black fire she was holding. It reflected in his eyes, giving the illusion that his irises had grown larger. "_Magnifico_." he whispered. He awkwardly drew a little closer to it. "Could I...could I hold it for a moment?" Raven said with a puzzled tone, "Sure. Why do you ask?"

"That fire is yours. It is a piece of you, a unique thing that reflects the fiber of your being. It is your creation, your child by your own hand and your own force of will. It is everything that is you; your sister, your mother, your daughter. It is your core of life released into the world. If I was to hold it and damage it in any way, it would be as if I killed your own flesh and blood."

"It's not that important. Just take it." Raven slipped the ball of dark fire into Kresk's hand. He stared at for a few moments, fascinated. He listened to it; it had a dry sound, a sound concealing such a strong voice filled with life and humanity. This was Raven's to be sure. "Here, take it back." he said to her. "What should I do with it?"

"Whatever you damn well please. I've taught you everything I can. What you do now is up to you." Kresk sat down, looking like an eager cat begging for food as he watched the magnificent umbral burning in Raven's hand. Raven decided to take Kresk's advice. She concentrated on making the fire bigger. But that didn't seem to do much; it was like the flame was under strain. So she tried again, this time _willing _the fire to become bigger; not forcing, working with, empathizing with and mastering it. Soon, it was the size of her head. She willed it to become smaller, and it did. She would have done more, but she was still troubled by her encounter with...whatever it is she met that like the fire in her hand so disturbingly and beautifully reflected her. She finally asked Kresk something, who had drifted off into idle thoughts. "Kresk, when I was trying to generate the shadow-fire for the first time, I...I felt something."

"What kind of something? Something's a pretty broad term."

"Well, it's hard to describe. When you were cowering behind that wall, you didn't happen to sense spirits did you? You know, ghosts, spell by-products, _other demons_?"

"Sorry, I picked up nothing. If anything else had entered the room I would have felt it. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing. Just something happened while I generated the fire. I don't want to talk about it."

"Alright, everyone's entitled to their secrets I suppose. But if I had to guess, I'd say it was all just in your head, a hallucination, you know. Sometimes spellcasting can put a strain on the mind." Raven said nothing, and Kresk drifted back to his oblivious thoughts. Every now and then he occasionally looked over at the shadowy flame in Raven's hand. Finally, it was his turn to ask a question, "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Don't leave me in suspense! What are you going to do with it?"

"I don't know. I really don't want to use the fire with all these books around."

"Fine, have it your way." Nevertheless, Raven found herself toying with the fire in her hands. First she moved the flame from hand to another. Then she willed to move like a snake between her palms. Soon she found herself shaping it, morphing it into some form, any form, an indistinct shape. All the while Kresk watched, and slowly, grinned a steady smile. Raven was so close to getting a distinct shape out of it, she could feel it. A quadruped, something with wings maybe? Claws or feathers? It didn't matter. The fire was as alive as her; it would decide. So close, so close...

And then came the infernal beeping. It rang with the same monotonous tone, her Titan's signal, the same god-awful beep. Raven's concentration broke. Her promethean elemental dissolved in her hands, and Kresk's grin turned into a scowl. He painfully shut his eyes for a moment, inhaled deeply, and said, with the utmost solenmity, "I truly, honestly, deeply, _hate _that noise. I don't think you can fathom how much I really do."

"I don't like it anymore than you do. I was fine with just a silent signal."

"Very well. Go on, go with your fancy friends. I'll be fine here. But by the way, if you get back from wherever you're going and all the food is missing, I don't exist, remember?"

"Gotcha." At this Kresk disappeared in a fireball that failed to leave scorch-marks on the floor. Raven walked through the door (literally), down the hallway and into the living room. Robin worked at the computer at whatever emergency could summon him from the depths of his room, Cyborg attentively watching the screen. Starfire flitted about, and Beastboy was rummaging through the fridge for the scraps of his most recent prey; a tofurkey leg. Starfire spotted Raven out of the corner of her emerald eye, "Raven! Most good friend! Where have you been on this glorious day?" Cyborg looked back with a positive "Howdy." before returning to the computer. Robin didn't even look up. Beastboy emerged from the refridgerator, "Yeah, seriously, where have you been? We havn't seen you all day!" Raven, with the slightest turn of her head in his direction, and in her usually inaudible voice accompanied by a stare of daggers, said, vastly understating the situation, "I was playing with fire." Starfire flew away, but Beastboy held her gaze a bit longer before he backed down. A sane person wouldn't have even asked, but Beastboy's anarchic mind pressed him forward into oblivion sometimes. After all, curiosity killed the cat, and Beastboy could be any cat in the world. But still, he backed down. Any animal knows the presence of a demon, and knows when to be afraid. Raven walked over to the computer next to Cyborg and Robin. "So, what are we looking at?" "Someone's been draining electricity into a battery big enough to power the city and high powered solar items have gone missing." Cyborg responded. "Dr. Light." Robin replied.

He sighed a bit, and barely under his breath, muttered, "Sometimes I miss Slade. There, I said it universe. Happy now?" Raven and Cyborg said nothing. They knew very well that he meant it to an extent. Slade was Robin's mission in life. What Roadrunner was to Coyote, Moby Dick was to Ahab, and Trix were to Rabbit, Slade was to Robin. He often imagined what it would be like to catch him, to see him defeated, in fact it was one of the great moments of his imagination. He dwelt on it constantly, dreamed of it even, when Morpheus the Sandman was kind. It was nights like these that Robin slept the the sleep of the just (Neil Gaiman rocks). "All right, let's move. We've narrowed down to where he's likely to soon. Go." Everybody ran out the door, save Raven, who as usual, walked. "Raven." Robin said, looking back to her, "Go easy on him this time." Raven nodded in understanding, and continued to walk out of the room.

Of course I won't bore you with the details of the fight, for I have miles to go before I sleep and this is one detour on the long road I choose not to make. Let it suffice to say, that at some point, Raven did finally stop playing with fire and started _using_ it, engulfing Dr. Light in a stream of black fire that tore through his beams of light and burned his very soul. And somewhere, she knew, the Demon, herself that is to say, emerged from her psyche to assist in the unleasing of this holocaust. And one more time, Raven heard her inner being's identity as she tried to control the fire, like controling a bull with yarn. "_WHO ARE YOU?"_ she asked herself now, and that was spoken, was the chilling reply, resounded by an innocent giggle, "I told you. I am everything you should have been." She found herself spent, looking at the charred shell of Dr. Light, with barely any life in it, she found herself drained. She collapsed on the street where she had been fighting. All the while, Kresk, in his private study, had been gazing through his crystal ball, grinning at the scene. He laughed when Raven unleashed that final destructive flow, and said his own cryptic message, "And so, it begins."

That night, as Raven lay, a figure sat in the corner, dark and beautiful. She swore for a moment she saw a flash of teeth. But what entranced her were the yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. She heard a familiar giggle, and the figure was gone. Raven would sleep, and would walk among strange dreams of places and people that should have been. And, she would, for a brief moment that she would regret, revel in it. And somewhere, Dream and Destiny spoke to each other of this, before Destiny closed his book.


	7. Chapter 7: A Night at Eldorado II

" _To suffer woes which Hope thinks infinite;_

_To forgive wrongs darker than death or night;_

_To defy Power, which seems omnipotent;_

_To love, and bear; to hope till Hope creates_

_From its own wreck the thing it contemplates;_

_Neither to change, nor falter, nor repent;_

_This, like thy glory, Titan, is to be_

_Good, great and joyous, beautiful and free;_

_This is alone Life, Joy, Empire, and Victory."_

-Demogorgon, _Prometheus Unbound_ by Percy Bysshe Shelly

"AH, CRAP! WHO ASKED DEMOGORGON THE PARADOX QUESTION?!" Kresk screamed out. He got up and ran over to the platform overlooking the main floor, the other demon lords following him. Raven snapped out of her daze of memory. She got up and, taking a spot next to Kresk, watched a frenzied mayhem unfold on the main floor. Demogorgon, THE Prince of All Demons, had two heads. This must be distinctly understood or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am about to tell you. You see both heads were absolutely and totally insane to a point that goes BEYOND the point of insanity. Nothing in any language can describe the sheer pandemonium that is Demogorgon's mind. Some wonder if this is perhaps not madness but in fact the default mindset of the King of Demons, a being so horribly old and powerful that its very name is taboo in most religions and that surely its primeval mind must work beyond the human scope. If so, then what it would be like insane is a horrible thought indeed, but back to the point. Both these heads, while equally crazy, have separate identities, and have one common goal; they want to be separate from each other. They want nothing more than to see each other dead. However, this is impossible, for each head is in fact an aspect of the other, and if one died, the other would surely perish. So they endure each other in an uneasy truce. But, that doesn't mean that they are immune to one childish trick; 'Which head is the leader?' Indeed, there was no answer since, as mentioned, both heads are aspects as each other. That doesn't mean they don't fight about it though. And such was the case now.

"I believe your culprit is that little blonde creature down there." Astaroth pointed out. A golden-haired, innocent looking succubus stood in front of the massive King of Demons, puzzled as to why the heads were arguing. "Astaroth, you need to get down there and reason with them before this gets ugly." Kresk begged. "Too little too late." Ipos sneered. Indeed the heads were already snapping at each other and screaming in Abyssal. Finally one head grabbed the other's neck and began to strangle. The monster fell down onto the main floor, crushing several dretches, and the blonde succubus ran to an entourage of her sisters surrounding Malcanthet. That was when Raven got her first good look at the Lord of the Tanar'ri. Its lower torso was twisting and serpentine, but its chest was strong and well built. In place of arms, two spike lined tentacles whipped about. What looked like two more tentacles emerged from the creature's lower back, but it was soon apparent that these were tails. Its legs were a cross between an eagle's and an iguana's, taloned and scaled. Its body was covered in manged fur caked with feces, mud, vomit and other disgusting substances. Patches of scales interrupted the fur, each scale a sickly green or purple, and cracked and warped. Two long necks erupted from a spot in between the shoulders on top of the chest, but the heads, the heads were inconsistent, shifting. One moment they were feral mandrills, the next, emaciated hyenas, then rabid baboons. Stranger forms emerged the more Raven watched. Soon they were pythons made out of white hair, deformed lions with one eye, skeletal unicorns with melted horns, maroon hippogriffs screaming parakeets, and still odder creatures Raven didn't recognize. And it wasn't just Demogorgon's heads changing now. Soon he had four tentacles, then one, then nine, and then five. He changed color quickly, like an octopus, shifting from dead gray to light black (You ask how it's possible? Demogorgon is all about impossibility) to fiery pink to navy blue to acid green. His fur fell off and scales, then feathers, then slime, then fur again. It (Demogorgon) started bleeding at the neck, first blood, then ichor, then frog eggs, then jelly, then chlorine gas that condensed into eyeballs.

The fight grew steadily worse, the heads clawing, biting, and unleashing flurries of breath weapons at each other. Some of the other demons, like Orcus and Pazuzu, laughed and sneered at their vicious opponent in such a childish act. Weaker demons cowered and feared that they may be the next to die in the grand melee. Still others just watched or shouted randomly at the pair in Abyssal. Either way, every demon was steering clear of the main floor. "Astaroth, do something! You're one of the only ones who can reason with them!"

"I'm not going down there! What do you take me for, one of your suicidal dretches?"

"Well someone's got to do something! It's literally crashing the party!"

"Send Soc. Graz'zt is going to kill him anyway. If Demogorgon kills him, Graz'zt blames Demogorgon and puts it on his many lists of slights. They fight each other, neither wins, and the natural order is restored."

"That plan's good, I just don't like the part where I die." Socothbenoth squeaked. "The lot of ya' shut up. Something's going down." Ipos growled. A silence had hit the room. The screams and jeers had stopped as a figure walked across the floor to the primordial titan. She was, simply but, beauty in the most corrupt sense of the word. She oozed sex appeal, and a scent as sweet as a rose followed her. Her dark hair was kept out of her shining red eyes by two curved horns, and she wore an elaborate head-dress as a crown. Her light-red strapless dress exposed her back, shoulders, and wings for all of creation to drool over. The dress itself was all at once rather modest yet supremely seductive, covering her body but showing her curvy figure by the light of the room. The dress didn't disguise the fact that she had a long, slender tail tipped with a poison spike. Her slender arms ended in delicate hands that climaxed in extravagantly long, almost talon-like nails. Malcanthet, Demon Queen of the Succubae, bent over Demogorgon, and moving her ruby, full lips, almost whispered out in a husky, wet voice filled with temptation, "Sweetheart, what is the matter?" Demogorgon's heads stopped fighting each other and stared up at Malcanthet. Each growled/hissed/mewed a response at Malcanthet. The seductress cooed something to the demon, and over the course of a few minutes, Demogorgon's body began to shift back to a more recognizable and distinct form. Then, Malcanthet, coldly and wickedly called out the blonde succubus that had started the entire mess. She crawled forward sheepishly, terrified of her mistress' wrath. Malcanthet hissed something at her that was definitely a death sentence. The succubae screamed and cried for mercy, pitifully begging for a scrap of compassion that had long ago disappeared. Malcanthet raised her hand and spread her fingers slightly. The succubus was thrown backwards into Jubilex, the Lord of Slime and Ooze. The Faceless Lord began to dissolve the succubus, who screamed even as the rest of her sank into the snot-colored oblivion. Malcanthet said one last thing to Demogorgon before she kissed each persona (which had now taken the form of long-haired cheetahs) on the forehead and scratched their chins. Malcanthet sauntered away into the shadows, and the content Demon King slithered back into a corner and purred like a kitten.

Raven finally asked," I'm sorry, what just happened?" Kresk explained, "THAT, was a demonstration of Abyssal politics, which is the closest thing we have to government. Let me explain. The voluptuous creature you saw talking to Demogorgon, the strongest demon in the Abyss and the self-proclaimed 'King' of Demons, was Malcanthet, Demon Queen of Succubae. Malcanthet is currently Demogorgon's consort, meaning Demogorgon is her sugar-daddy, or whatever you call it. It's part of how she's held her title for so long. Nobody questions your power when you're backed by the strongest demon in the Abyss. Almost everybody knows Malcanthet. Let's see... Uh, former consort, former consort, boy toy, mortal enemy, former consort _and_ mortal enemy, and so forth and so forth."

"Oh." There was a moment of awkward silence before Raven asked Kresk, "When you say 'consort', you mean concu-"

"Yeah."

"So they've-"

"All the way."

"Her?"

"Yeah."

"With _that_?"

"That's the chant of it anyway. And between them they have produced horrors and monstrosities that should never have been born and shouldn't be named. We're talking monsters that can put the Echidnean brood (Chimera, Cerberus, Hydra, Ladon, Gryphon-Vultures, Nemean Lion, etc.) to shame. I saw one of their kids once, man. Ugh, I still have nightmares from where the thing tried to kill me. All those teeth...nothing in the multiverse should have that many teeth. Demogorgon aims for quality in its offspring, that's why it kills the weak ones off at birth. Or maybe it doesn't. It really doesn't pay attention to its numerous progeny that much. It's hard to tell what the Hells goes up on in those freakish minds. But Graz'zt, Graz'zt on the other hand aims for quantity. He's produced more cambions and alu-fiends than all the other demon lords combined."

"He must be very popular."

"Hardly. Practically everyone in the Abyss wants him dead. Demogorgon, Orcus, Pazuzu, Dagon, Malcanthet, Lolth. But he has some powerful backers though. Iggwilv the Witch Queen, who actually imprisoned him once, Pale Night, Baphomet. That doesn't change the fact though, he's hated, without a doubt. Cripes, even Apollyon sent some demons to kill him once, long, long ago." At that moment, the locust demons a table away turned their humanoid heads at Kresk, curling their scorpion tails and jittered a warning. Kresk snarled a retort, "Ah, pike it you rubes. I'll nick the lot of ya' if you don't just turn around right now." The locust demons veered away, but they each stared at Raven for a moment before going on with their 'conversation' of chirps and clicks. Raven felt her palms sweat. There just comes a bad feeling when herald-of-the-apocalypse demons take in interest in you on your pre-apocalyptic birthday. "Of course, APOLLYON (Kresk shouted this at the locust demons, sending a shudder of annoyance down their carapaces) wants _everything_ completely and utterly destroyed. That's why he's the Angel of Destruction. That's why nobody, not even the other Demiurge, screw with him."

"Well why does everybody hate him?" Raven pried. "Lots of reasons. Depends on who you're asking really. Sometimes he's hated because he picks fights, like with Demogorgon. Graz'zt has the insane notion of toppling Demogorgon and taking the title of 'King of Demons'. He wants that because he thinks he can do the impossible. He thinks he can 'unite' the Abyss, and with that, he could conquer the multiverse. Of course, he fails to realize that this is impossible. Aside from all the philosophical problems with it, there's just the fact that, demons don't work well together. You see this, this whole night? Making sure these cutters didn't kill each other on the spot took, massive, MASSIVE, bribes. But back to the point. With everyone else, who knows? Like I said, it depends on who you ask."

"Oh." Raven contemplated the information she had just absorbed for a moment. She had to take it all in before her next question. "Kresk, what's a 'cambion' or 'alu-fiend'?"

"You." Kresk bluntly echoed. Raven was starting to get the meaning. Kresk continued. "More correctly, you're a cambion specifically. Your father was a demon and your mother was a human. An alu-fiend is the offspring of a female demon and a male human. While both terms are generally associated with demons, they're really umbrella terms, applying to half-devils, half-daemons, and even the rare half-demodand. Graz'zt is infamous, legendary even, for his voracious sexual appetite and sensual appeal. He has thousands, nay, millions of occults across the material plane, and every single one of them has a female member of some race hoping that the Dark Prince will come and 'bless' them. These 'gifts' often result in half-demons that wind up killing their mothers sooner or later. In fact-" Kresk circled Raven, cross-examining her features and analyzing his memories of her, from her affinity with shadow to her inherent spell casting abilities, "I think _you_ might be one of his."

"WHAT?" Raven asked, her eyes widening. Kresk kept at the revelation, "Yeah, you might be one of his. I mean, you both got a thing for shadows, you move with his kind of grace, you do magic better than anyone I know did at their age. If I had to guess, I'd say Graz'zt was your father. Now, I've never heard of this 'Tri-gan' fellow-"

"Trigon."

"Whatever, but I do know Graz'zt usually shows up at witch's sabbaths and summonings and such. Like I said, result's usually a cambion. Your mom, I can figure out that she was in the occult. Did she ever really talk to you about your father?" Raven looked down. Her eyes dimmed for a moment, and she regressed into a sad, dour voice. "I never knew my mother that well. She watched over me every now and then while I still lived in Azarath, but I was mostly raised by the priests. I don't know what happened to her after I left." Kresk didn't pressure Raven for anymore information. He placed his massive, clawed hand on her shoulder and gave Raven his own sad smile before looking away into space and quietly muttering, just loud enough for Raven to hear, "At least you knew your mother. Mine died giving birth to me. Killed my father to. I can barely remember her, what her grave looks like sometimes, much less her name. I think it was Sarah. Might've been Rachel. Gods, I wish I could remember." Raven looked up at the ancient tanar, and saw that a single tear of blood was oozing down his face. She suddenly felt that she knew a little more about Kresk, that for the first time she had a small connecting point to him that didn't scare her a tiny bit. Kresk wiped away the tear on his sleeve. It barely showed against the red of his robes.

"Ah, but enough about that. This is night to be happy, not a night for some old demon to ramble on about something that happened to him a long time ago in a country far, far away." Raven marveled at how easily Kresk could shift his moods, how he could just drop one for another. One minute he was crying tears of blood, the next screaming war-cries of absolute hate, then all of the sudden he was happy (to an extent). "And still, ya' got hope. Cling to that. It's how Morpheus beat Lucifer in Infernum from what I hear. Before he passed away that is." Kresk was depressed again. "Ugh, I haven't been this down since Anung Un Rama ate pancakes. That was truly the Lower Plane's darkest hour in the last century. Our darkest hour indeed. But you need to cheer up. Your daddy might be in here tonight." Raven had almost forgotten about Graz'zt in her mourning. But she another question, "Kresk, if Graz'zt _is_ my father, then what do I have to do with Trigon?"

"Absolutely nothing. He probably just happened to find out that you existed, and saw that you were the perfect opportunity to get what he wanted. He used you, kept the truth a secret. All any demon wants is more power for itself, and it'll use any means to get it."

"Does that mean I won't destroy the world?" Kresk started laughing and snorting again, "Yeah, sure kiddo. You won't cause the apocalypse! I can sleep easy knowing that." Kresk kept guffawing, despite Raven's unamused stare. "Ahh, armagedon. That's a hoot." Raven couldn't help but notice that the locust demons were staring at her once more. They looked away again, but she felt a shiver run down her spine. Kresk finally stopped laughing, "Thanks kid, that's the kind of mood-lifter I needed just then." Raven could care less right now about Kresk and his opinions and inside jokes. Trigon wasn't her father. She didn't have the slightest idea who Graz'zt was, but he _wasn't_ _Trigon_. Did she actually know this? No. But she _knew_ none the less. The world was safe. There would be no apocalypse, no day of fire, no Titan's Tower in ruins. The world would spin the way it always had. Everything was calm. Everything was safe. Everything was perfect. And for the first time all evening, Raven drank in the night, sipped the strange company around her. For the first time in a long time, Raven was truly, utterly, completely, _happy_. You must understand, I am not merely referring to some house-cat contentment or a slight euphoria, I'm talking about an Elysium joy so profound it's the stuff they write about in fairy tales, the stuff golden ages are made of. And Raven wondered to herself, she wondered if this was kind of high Starfire was on all the time.

"And speak of the Dark Prince, here he comes. Astaroth! Get the victim ready, if you please."

"As you like it." Astaroth replied. Socothbenoth, his once shining eyes now dull with fear and his donkey ears drooping in anticipation and horror, vainly pleaded with Astaroth in Abyssal (he didn't want Raven, who he knew as a lowly human, to hear a full fledged demon prince groveling), but to no avail. He tried turning into a snake, recognizable by its ears, and slithering for the vents, but Astaroth's dragon blocked him in time for Ipos to grab him. Ipos picked up the now humanoid Socothbenoth by the hair, who, this time, pleaded in English. "Come on Ipos! Have mercy on another demon prince!"

"Sorry, you asked for the bull, now here come the horns."

"What bull? What horns? I gave lip to Astaroth! Is that such a crime?"

"Apparently so. Here Diabolus." Ipos handed Socothbenoth to Astaroth by the hair. Astaroth, standing at full height lifted Socothbenoth off the ground, and placed him in a seat at the table. Graz'zt's entourage, still hiding the main demon, laughed and jeered at the weak demon prince who sat shivering with fear in the chair. Minotaur-like Baphomet snorted and growled, Nocticula chuckled softly, and a host of other demons all shapes and sizes were amused by the spectacle. "Where is he? Where is the worm?" a voice rang out from the crowd. It was he, Raven knew. It was her father.

There was something about this voice. It was filled with an undeniable power, a godliness that could only belong to a demiurge. And somewhere along the line, whether it be arrogance or pride, Raven knew that what made that voice powerful was in her voice as well. The crowd began to part. Raven heard heavy footsteps as something dark and tall made its way through the mob. Her heart began pounding like a jackhammer, she felt cold sweat on her forehead, and she felt dizzy with anticipation. Raven felt a little sympathy for poor, beautiful, doomed Socothbenoth. But he had dared to insult Astaroth.

He had dared to insult all demiurge.

_He had dared to insult her father_.

The forefront group parted to finally reveal the Dark Prince. No, this could not be. This magnificent creature couldn't be a demiurge. This creature was _a god_ to be sure. Standing ten feet tall, above all the lesser demons around him, Graz'zt emanated an aura of sheer and awesome power. His smooth, glossy, ebony-black skin reflected the lights of the room, and his emerald eyes, emitted their own terrible luminance. Amid his dark, ruffled hair Raven spotted six small horns. His pointed ears perked every now and then at some comment from the gathering, and he snarled an insult, revealing his yellowed fangs. Punching a fist into his hand, Raven noticed that each hand bore six, slender fingers. She grabbed her own hand with the other, expecting an extra digit to appear next to her little finger. And one thing completely undeniable was that Graz'zt was handsome beyond words, lithe and muscular, yet perfectly proportioned, radiating attraction and beauty just like Malcanthet. His high cheek bones helped his mouth to form a mighty, sultry voice. Every now and then Graz'zt punctuated his comments by licking his lips and dragging his tongue across his teeth. He wore gleaming silver armor that only covered the upper part of his legs, his shoulders, and his arms. There he stood; Graz'zt, the Dark Prince of the Abyss, the Demon Prince of Shadows, and who Raven believed, without a shadow of doubt, was her father. 'Yes, surely,' Raven thought to herself, 'I am the child of this god.' And then Raven realized that it wasn't her saying that. In the back of her mind, the Demon had come to accept it to.

Graz'zt moved over to the petrified Socothbenoth. When he walked, despite his air of supreme masculinity, his motions were filled with an almost feminine grace. He grabbed Socothbenoth by the neck, gripping him by the neck and lifting him off the ground. "You have been a thorn in my side far too long, demon princeling. I grow weary of dealing with your pompous and arrogant ways. Is this how you treat your KING? The only thing that stopped me from killing you before was that filth called 'Malcanthet'. Well she's not coming to save you this time. NOW DIE!" Graz'zt threw Socothbenoth down and summoned a massive sword into his hand. Its dark blade curved back and forth until it reached the hilt (that resembled a pair of thin, wide, sharp horns) and thin handle. Graz'zt smiled and licked his lips, staring down the quivering Socothbenoth. "Doomshadow has been starved of your blood too long now." Graz'zt began to move, but Kresk teleported between the two eidolons. "Gent's, mind the lady." He strained, holding back Graz'zt.

Everyone's eyes turned on Raven. She felt nervous under the attention. It wasn't Socothbenoth's white eyes filled with hope that this distraction would allow him escape, it wasn't Baphomet's fierce yellow eyes full of rage or cannibalistic Baba Yaga's stare of hunger, it wasn't even Pale Night, a demon stronger than Graz'zt and older than Demogorgon, resembling nothing more than a voluptuous figure floating in the air, her features disturbingly hidden by a white sheet that covered her whole body, giving Raven an eyeless glare, no, it was not even that which made her tremble. No, it was when Graz'zt looked at her, and she looked back, and for the first time she looked into those glowing green eyes, truly looked into them, and recognized a glint of godhood that she swore she saw in own reflection every day. It was his stare, his eyes, searching her mind, body, and soul, piercing her that made her sweat. Raven felt her knees tremble, her mouth dry up, and her face flush when her eyes met those two emerald orbs. All of this happened in a split second.

"A human, Kresk? I should not kill this slime merely because of the presence of a mortal?"

"No, you shouldn't kill him because you would only be wasting your time. He's just an aspect after all. Besides-" Kresk began to converse with Graz'zt and drew him away to a private corner. Graz'zt appeared to be considering whatever Kresk was saying. For the first time, Raven noticed how large Kresk was. He was standing only a head shorter than Graz'zt. She didn't recall him being that large before. She asked Astaroth, who was presently nearby. "Astaroth, has Kresk always been that tall?"

"That's not his actual height. The same chaos magic that made Kresk lose his nose, mouth, eyes, hands, and, well, everything else also destroyed his legs. When he got everything else replaced, he got chaositech legs. So, he has the ability to manipulate his height for effect. He can be anywhere from four feet tall, which he uses for when he's groveling for something, to almost as big as Graz'zt, when he needs to make an impression." Suddenly it made sense how Kresk could walk around the tower hallways without trouble. Once again, another puzzle bothered Raven. "What's an 'aspect'?" Astaroth continued to answer all questions posted to him. "All cosmic entities, that is to say, gods, demon lords, arch-devils, archangels, and so forth and so forth, can create lesser, weaker versions of themselves. They use these lesser clones, or 'aspects', to do their work for them around the multiverse. Usually they're used to lead lesser servants as a morale booster, or sometimes it's just the old saying; 'If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.' All the 'demon lords' in this room are aspects of the real ones. Kresk specifically asked for the demon lords to send aspects."

"Why?"

"Lots of reasons, really. For starts, demons can't actually leave the Abyss unless they are summoned or they exit through a portal, like those doors you see on the walls. Now, if it's that hard for your run-of-the-mill dretch and succubus, imagine how difficult it is for a fully fledged demon lord. Second, because if too many demon lords gathered in the same place, well it would be a disaster. They would wage war, foul the nations of the earth, etc. And they would attract unwanted attention; angels, devils, eladrins, mortals begging for power. This way, we can keep things discreet, provided our magical cloaking holds up. And lastly, Kresk thought you might not be able to handle it. Don't be angry at him; he has a point. Not to sound arrogant, but demon princes are terrifying creatures to behold in their original states, emitting auras of sheer horror. Most mortals are driven to insanity if they don't have the will power to look at a demon lord. Kresk just wanted you to be safe."

"Oh." There was a moment of silence, where, despite Astaroth's advice, Raven was a little miffed at Kresk for his precautions. She didn't need him to take care of her. She saw demons in her dreams and visions all the time. How could this be any different? Raven considered asking Astaroth about this before she realized something. She had spent the better part of the night asking questions. Raven wondered if perhaps she was being too annoying, too much of a child, asking about this and that. Ironically, she asked a question about this. "Astaroth, am I asking too many questions." Astaroth looked over at her, and said, "The real question is why aren't you asking more questions? Despite walking into a room filled with the most powerful demons and magic in the multiverse, you come off as strangely silent."

"I know more about magic than you think." Raven retorted. She held out her hand and produced a ball of black fire. Astaroth stared at it dispassionately. "Not as much as _you_ think, however." He picked up the ball of fire in his hand like it was a gem. He muttered something and particles of dust gathered into his other palm. Soon the dust twisted into a solid chunk of lead. Then the lead distorted its colors until it was a rich gold. It morphed and twirled like ooze in his hand. Astaroth picked up the ball of shadow fire and dropped it into the slime. Still it continued to move until a shape formed around an ebon gem that had once been the black fire. It contorted until at last it resembled a small wyvern coiled around the jewel. Astaroth murmured another word. The wyvern spread its wings, and, still holding the gem, flew away. "You may know much about magic for someone so young, but you still have a long way to being an arch-mage." Astaroth replied.

He plucked a feather from one of his six wings. It turned into a thick, old, worn, leather bound book in his hand. He gave it to Raven, casually handing it to her like it was a scrap of paper, despite its large size and unusual appearance. "THAT, is one of my oldest grimoires. It contains spells of various powers you should try if you ever want to achieve the status of arch-mage." Astaroth mentioned. Raven flipped through the book, looking at the illustrations of magic circles and symbols. She did notice that the book was unfortunately written in a series of violent looking emblems and runes, each crooked and malformed. She presumed this was Abyssal. "How do I read it?" she asked. Astaroth manifested another book fro his feathers, this one much shorter and thinner. It was merely labeled The Fraternity of Order's Guide to Abyssal, the Language of Demons. Astaroth had obviously manipulated the book so that it appeared in a readable form for Raven. "That should get you on the right foot." Astaroth quietly exclaimed, proud that, once again, another disaster of ignorance had been averted because of books and the written word. "And while we're at it," the demon lord pressed on, "here. EVERYBODY needs to know Draconic sooner or later." He place another book in her hands. This one was also a Fraternity of Order book, The Fraternity of Order's Guide to Draconic, the Language of Dragons and Draconic Creatures. The Diabolus noticed that Raven's arms were growing tired from the weight. He placed his hand over the books, and they were instantly transformed back into feathers. Raven reached back and placed the feathers into her hood. Something was happening with Graz'zt.

Kresk summoned Socothbenoth over to him. The Demon Prince of Pleasure and Perversion practically crawled over to the two towering demons before him, and Kresk had to pull up his hair before he stood up straight. Then, Kresk started to yell to the gathered multitude around him. "Alright! Listen and listen well, cutters! The Dark Prince himself has decided to give Socothbenoth a _slight_ piece of mercy. He will not kill this 'lowly worm', tonight anyway. But that does not mean that the Patron of the Tents and Tabernacles of the Daughters shall walk free. So the two shall do battle, shall duel, in the oldest of all old contests, performed since the before Age Before Ages, before the War of Law and Chaos, before the first light dawned on the elves and the first life crawled from the seas of the Mortal Coil. They shall have a duel of realities!" The hope left Socothbenoth's face. A duel of realities took wit, cunning, and intelligence, and there were none in the Abyss who had more of all three than Graz'zt. Kresk continued with his tirade, "Challengers, take your places!"

Socothbenoth sat down at one end of the table, Graz'zt stood at the other. As Kresk recited the few rules in Abyssal, an enclave of other demons gathered behind Socothbenoth. They did not support him directly, but more the cause _against_ Graz'zt. Demogorgon stood by with cephalopod heads, cradling Malcanthet in his tentacles. Pazuzu flapped down, as did Orcus and Yeenoghu. More came, but surprisingly, the forces _with_ Graz'zt and the ones _against_ him balanced out rather well (of course this was because several demon lords could not attend, as well as various favored worshippers and servants). A hush came over the throng, broken only by the occasional squawk or whisper, and an invisible arcane fog permeated the air. Socothbenoth began, "I am mouse, small and common." A mouse appeared on the table, so real Raven could see the tiniest details of its fur. Graz'zt replied, "I am cat, mouse-eating and cunning." Sure enough, a calico cat appeared on the table, devouring the tiny rodent. "I am a dog, cat-eating and strong." A pit bull manifested and consumed the feline. "I am a tiger, stronger, faster, and consumer of all." A tiger appeared, and ripped the pit bull to shreds. "I am man, destroyer and despoiler of all creatures." A man appeared with a gun, and shot the noble tiger down. "I am death, which comes for all mortals in time." The man aged, and aged, until there was nothing left but his shriveled corpse on the ground. "I am immortal, my soul and my body one, deathless. None can take me now." The corpse rose, radiating lighting and spreading wings of energy. Graz'zt remained silent. He had any vast number of trump cards at this point in time, but none of them would work in this game. There was no easy way to win. Other immortals, demons, angels, they would all just make the game a tie. He didn't want a tie, he wanted a victory.

Raven saw that it was taking her father a moment to find something to beat this latest addition. She thought, and pondered, and reflected, until at last she came up with a strategy. Raven attempted a desperate move. In her mind, she called out to Graz'zt, pleaded with him, and begged him to listen to her plea. It worked, at last it worked, for she heard his sultry voice caress her surface thoughts in her head. "Yes, mortal?" he asked. "I know how you can beat him." She replied. "Oh, and how is that, human?"

"I have heard that gods are above immortals."

"This is true."

"Why not just choose a deity?"

"Because there are levels of divinity. If I pick a god, he chooses one stronger, and then I have an even larger problem."

"But isn't it true that a god is only as strong as its believers make it."

"Indeed, the graveyard of gods on the Astral Plane is evidence to this. I fail to see how this helps me though."

"Be an atheist." Suddenly, Graz'zt saw the wisdom in this gambit. He evidenced his pleasure by turning ever so slightly in Raven's direction, placing his emerald eyes upon her, and smiling, revealing his yellowed fangs. "Little one, wise beyond your years, who are you?" he thought to her. "They call me Raven, and you may know who I am soon enough." Graz'zt continued with the contest. "I am a god, a lesser deity, a hero ascended to a controller of the universe." A small being, a glowing figure appeared. Socothbenoth smirked and scowled, "I am a greater god, I am Zeus and Ra and Odin. I am father of pantheons, slayer of titans, and puppeteer of the multiverse." A mighty entity, a true vision of god-hood manifested, emanating lighting and radiance. Graz'zt continued, "I am your faithful, your believers." A horde of hundreds of beings appeared, humans, dwarves, halflings, elves, and dozens of others. Socothbenoth continued, "I am divine wrath, and I smite every single one of you." The people were struck by thunder and plagues, their skin burning and aching. Graz'zt made his final move, "I am the uncaring, the wronged, the converted. I am still all these beings, but we do not believe in you. We are your followers no more, for now or ever." The people turned their back on the deity, looked away from it. They dropped their holy symbols, forgot the old holy stories, and burned or abandoned the holy texts. The god on the table's luminance began to die. It cast lightning and meteors at its former followers, but they would not look at it, accusing the odd occurrences as arcane magic, the workings of a new god, or even just the weather. The old god dimmed and dimmed, its formerly radiant body graying and eventually hardening into dead rock. Socothbenoth's eyes widened in shock as he realized what had happened. He had been lured into the perfect trap. Kresk walked over and yelled, "The winner, once more, now and forever, is Graz'zt! Let it be known to all!" Socothbenoth let his head and allowed it to crash on the table. Graz'zt stood there, smirking at the deposed lord. The demon princes behind Socothbenoth walked away, laughing at him, some spitting or hissing insults at him. Socothbenoth just lay there and accepted the salt in his fresh wounds.

Graz'zt began to walk away as well, but before he left, he turned around and smiled at Raven. "Young cambion, you have proven yourself a worthy acolyte tonight. Remember that there is a place waiting for you in Azzagrat, should you choose." And in a flash, Graz'zt was gone. He disappeared to another section of the room. Raven swelled with smiled with pride at the compliment, but at the same time was a little disappointed that Graz'zt had not acknowledged her as one of his children. "Cambion? Well this is new." Astaroth remarked. Raven was suddenly aware that it was just her, Kresk, Ipos, Astaroth, and the currently humiliated Socothbenoth again. She and the others took their seats at the table again. Raven looked over at deprived Socothbenoth again. All she could see was his long, brown hair and his protruding ears, but she swore she heard the distinct sound of sobbing. "So you mean to tell us, Kresk, that this little creature here is among the ranks of the fiendish?" Astaroth alleged. "Appears to be the case." Kresk replied. "Then why does she look like _that_?" Ipos queried, sounding like Raven was covered in slime. "Who knows." Kresk refuted. "It's probably a Merlin factor." Astaroth queried. "Come again?" said Kresk. "As you'll recall, Merlin's father was an incubus, but his mother was a mortal. However, his mother's heart was so pure, that when he was born, all traces of any fiendish heritage disappeared. This girl's mother must have repented from the occult before your apprentice was born Kresk." Astaroth explained. "Works for me. By the way, whatever happened to the old man after the Second World War?"

"Nobody knows. I've tried contacting him, but I cannot reach him. Some believe he went back into hibernation, until Britain would need him again. Others say he's still around, wandering the multiverse or manipulating the birth of a new Pendragon to replace Arthur and lead Britain back to a golden age. Like I said though, nobody really knows."

"The last time anybody saw him was the incident of False Avalon. (The incident of False Avalon; one of many paranormal events to occur during WWII. In this particular incident, which occurred very close to the end of the war and may have been one of the reason Hitler committed suicide, top members of the Thule society had been sent to a remote island off the coast of Greenland where Hitler believed the Holy Grail had been hidden, one of several sites. I mean the 'real' Holy Grail, not that DaVinci code crap. Incidentally this was the actual resting place of the Grail, and no, a killer rabbit, a Frenchmen, or a multi-eyed animated monster that was killed by a sudden heart-attack of the animator did not guard it. The leader of this group, his or her name lost, ignored the Fuhrer's orders and actually _drank_ from the Grail, imbuing them with incredible power and also driving them completely insane. With their new-found power, the leader of the group actually willed the island to move and serve as a sort of ship, hence the name, False Avalon. Along the way, the leader grew steadily more insane and used their new found arcane-might to summon various fiends, sin-dragons, undead, and Unseelie Court fey to them, developing a small army that would allow them to completely destroy Britain and, after killing Hitler themselves, conquering the globe and ushering in the new-world order. However, the Allies got word of this in time to send a covert force to attempt to destroy False Avalon and acquire the Holy Grail, or at the very least stall the army until a method to destroy them could be found. The force of twelve reached the island and was subsequently nearly destroyed, save for a small handful, about three. When things started to look really bleak, out of nowhere, the ghosts of Arthur, Galahad, Lancelot, Gawain, and other Round Table members appeared, heeding the plea of Merlin who had been the third covert member who was still alive. The Thule Society leader was ultimately destroyed as well as False Avalon. The other two surviving members of the Allied force were taken back with the Knights of the Round Table to the _real_ Avalon and were honorably made Knights themselves. Nobody knows the whereabouts of Merlin or the Grail. Needless to say, the entire incident was made top secret. It was marked as one of the more memorable paranormal incidents of the century, along with disappearance, reappearance, death, and replacement of Morpheus the Sandman a.k.a. Dream of the Endless, the King of Dream; the summoning of an avatar of Azathoth in Siberia, and Anung Un Rama eating pancakes, forever severing his ties to the Lower Planes.) Some say he's wandering around Faerie." Ipos said. "But back to the point. Who's the father supposed to be?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say he just left." Kresk retorted, looking off into the direction Graz'zt had last been seen. "Well, Graz'zt does get around, although her mother must have acted quickly in order to blot out _his_ features. Does she even have the sixth finger trait?" Astaroth wondered. "Just five, Diabolus. What's weird is that she's just finding out tonight. She hadn't even heard the name 'Graz'zt' until I mentioned it to her."

"You jest!"

"I kid you not. She's been under the impression that some cutter named 'Bi-gon' is her father." Kresk chuckled. This was too much for Raven. It was one thing to be the puppet of a demon lord, but it was another to be the puppet of a demon lord no one had heard of. Raven sighed before angrily spitting out, "For the last time, it's Trigon!" The group stared at her before various remarks of puzzlement.

"Who?"

"What now?"

"Never heard of him."

"Isn't that a kind of bicycle?" Raven sat humiliated. Now _this_ was degrading. The demon manipulating her, ruining her life, was an Abyssal nobody. She vainly pleaded for Trigon's dignity. "You've never heard of him? Trigon? The lord of darkness and evil?" The group suddenly had a look of amused understanding on their face. Kresk stood up and said, "Kid, let me show you something." Kresk teleported to the main stage, shoving a group of singing harpies out of the way. He called out to the mob before him, "Yes, pardon me, could I have everyone's attention for a brief moment? Yes, thank you. Now I have a small favor to ask of all the demons in the house tonight. Would the 'lord of all darkness and evil' please raise their hand, wing, tentacle, paw, talon, pseudopodia, etc. into the air?" And at that moment, every living thing in the room raised an appendage. Demogorgon raised both his tentacles, both for his two minds, Socothbenoth placed a weary hand into the air, even Jubilex saluted an extension of vertical slime. And it wasn't just demon lords; the succubae raised their hands, as did the hezrous, mariliths, and even the lowest of lows, dretches placed their claws into the air.

Kresk thanked the mob, "Yes, thank you once more. As you were." Kresk teleported back.

And so Kresk began to explain the nature of fiends. "You see, child of mine, just saying that this 'Trigon' fellow is the lord of all evil and darkness doesn't mean anything. EVERY demon, daemon, and devil is the lord of evil and darkness. As long as they can convince some unwitting mortals that they are the top of the food chain, they are the lords of darkness and evil." Suddenly Raven felt so had, so played. Trigon was an absolute nobody, a nameless being who owned thing in his own home plane. "Now I remember where I heard it!" Astaroth exclaimed. "Trigon; he's an emperor."

"Really?" Kresk sarcastically asked. "I do believe so. That would account for his absence on the Abyss if he transferred all his power to the Material Plane." Astaroth continued. That was a little consoling to Raven. Kresk noticed her new-found shame. "Ah, cheer up. So you're a pawn for a big-shot on the Prime and a nobody on the Abyss. So what? You are the fruit of Graz'zt's loins, his daughter. Will he pay attention to you or really care, presuming he even takes the time to check? Probably not. But who cares? That means you come from a long, proud lineage, born from the Abyss itself. You have more royal blood in you than me or Ipos or Soc! Even Apollyon isn't a true demon, so they say." Kresk said comforting Raven. On the inside she felt a little better. Kresk had a point. Trigon was a _nobody_. She was just misinformed. And once again, Raven felt that the world was safe. Socothbenoth, however, let out an agonized groan. "Thanks a lot, Kresk. I feel _so _much better now." Socothbenoth sighed. Ipos elbowed Kresk and gave him a look that told him it was time to cheer Soc up. Kresk leaned over to Socothbenoth grinning, and asked "Hey Soc, wanna' hear a joke?"

"No."

"Too bad." Kresk licked his lips before spitting out, "Belial." He snickered with Ipos and Astaroth. Socothbenoth's ears perked up a little. Kresk continued, "Hey, Fierna." The three demons laughed at this. Soc looked up, his dour mood beginning to disappear. Kresk pressed forward, "Wait, wait, I have another. Morwel!" The three burst out laughing at the inside joke. Socothbenoth sat up, smiling now. "Oh, oh, I have _one_ more. Get ready to laugh. Oberon!" Now Socothbenoth joined in the laughter with the other three. They continued laughing uproariously, Socothbenoth's spirits lifted once more. That was until he perked up one of his ears and raised a hand into the air. "What is it?" Kresk asked. "Listen." Soc said. The group listened in the air, Ipos raising a feline ear, Astaroth's dragon putting it's jaw onto the ground. "What do you hear?" Socothbenoth asked. Kresk thought about it and said, "Nothing." Socothbenoth looked over at him and said, unnervingly, "Precisely." Kresk's eyes widened in horror and annoyance. "Oh no, _he_ can't be here tonight!"

"Who?" Raven inquired. Astaroth tried to calm Kresk, "Now, now, he probably didn't come. You know he never leaves his layer."

"Don't try to cheer me up, Diabolus. He's around here somewhere. I can smell him." Kresk snarled. He looked around at the various cliques gathered around the room. All of them were alive and active, talking or at the least communicating in some way. All of them except one. Zuggtmoy, Lolth, Yeenoghu, and Anarazel all stood silently above a vague gray shape. It stood there muttering, below their heights. Raven looked at it. It was a piteous form to say the least. A mass of voluminous gray robes made up the bulk of the form. Emerging from the sleeves were hands so old, so impossibly ancient that it appeared dust that had seen the birth of the Planes themselves was falling off with each rare movement. The skin was pulled over them so tight it was wonder the being wasn't a skeleton. But what was truly pathetic was the creature's head. It was a face so prehistoric, so human, so decrepit that it was hard to see past all the wrinkles. Basset hound eyes stared from sunken sockets, a withered, cracked nose between them. It's thin dry lips muttered a constant stream of some gibberish. Raven could not tell whether the things coming off the sides of its bald head were very hair-ears or worn down horns. A crow almost as old as the figure stood on its shoulder. In one hand, it carried a massive book, almost too big for its skeleton hands.

"Oh no, who invited Raum?" Kresk muttered. All eyes looked at Astaroth. "What?" the Diabolus defended. The others' stare remained. "Oh, just because I'm one of the only ones to ever talk to him, instantly _I'm_ responsible." The defense was failing. Astaroth finally broke down, "Alright, fine. I met on the Pazunia and I may have slipped that there was a party. He just so looked so sad…"

"He looks sad all the time, you dupe!" Kresk yelled. "Who is Raum?" Raven asked. Kresk let out a miffed reply, "Raum, demiurge of soothsayers, doomsdays, fortunetellers, and apocalyptic prophecies. He can foretell the future, and he has a knack for remembering catastrophes before they happen. He's the ultimate mood-killer." Raven continued to stare at Raum, how gloomy, how depressing he was. Then, he stared back, directly at her. That's when he started to walk over. Kresk noticed this. "Oh, no! Who made eye-contact?"

"He's coming over here! Quick, pretend to be dead!"

"It's not gonna' work! Quick, run!"

"Hello, brothers." Raum muttered out in a dusty, dry voice filled with grief. He pronounced his words like he was saying them backwards. Kresk sighed before he kicked Astaroth under the table. The Diabolus talked to Raum, "Yes, helot to you to, Raum." Raum merely stood there. Astaroth sighed again and said, "Yes, now you can take your seat." The crippled creature summoned a chair and sat across from Raven. He kept staring at her. After a while, he opened his book, and flipped through the pages. He found a fresher, crumpled page. He read through it, taking his time. Then, he looked back up at her, and whispered out, "Ah, destiny."

"Oh, god. Him to. Well this is gonna' be a long night." Kresk groaned. He summoned his familiar. The quasit perched on his shoulder, taking orders from Kresk. "Nickis, yeah, faerie blood mixed with rat-poison, on the double." The creature chirped before it flew off. "The fire that burns to Apollyon." Raum muttered under his breath. "Raum, I'm not burning my books yet." Astaroth snapped. "The fire in all things. The fire that burns to Abaddon."

"I think he's speaking metaphorically again. I hate it when he does that." Kresk mumbled. "What, lust, wrath?" Ipos asked. "I think he means everything." Socothbenoth postulated. "No, he's quoting Job. He distinctly means lust." Ipos retorted. "Oh, shut up. If it was Abaddon, it would be fire. And as we all know fire is lust_ and _wrath." Socothbenoth back-talked. "I have to agree with Soc here. Fire is distinctly wrath and lust, both forms of destruction and creation. But what is destruction but a form of creation, and what is creation but a form of destruction? To unleash the inner fire, to let it escape not as a single stream, but as a bloody ecstasy, that is the fire that burns to Apollyon. It is to release all the flames. It is to destroy life, and therefore, create something new."

"Oh, that's crap! Everyone knows Apollyon destruction is complete annihilation, oblivion, not destruction in general!"

"How do you know? What makes you so sure you know everything about the Angel of Destruction?"

"I know you're wrong."

"Oh really? Should I call Graz'zt back over here? Maybe he can settle this for us!"

Astaroth sighed, "Nobody knows what Apollyon wants, or what it means. Should I ask him to come here and tell us?" The arguing demon lords backed down from the argument. "That's what I thought." Astaroth chided. Raven had stopped listening. When Raum had first uttered his terrible words, she had felt cold claws grip her heart. She knew Kresk was right; fire was energy, destruction and therefore creation. And it was just like he said, the fire that burns to Apollyon. It was letting it all out at the same time, all the wrath and energy at the same time, letting everything go so it could die in the pyre of energy. The Demon knew this, she knew it so well. The Demon was this energy, was nothing but this pyre alive. And Raven remembered again. She remembered the first time that it felt like her skin couldn't hold the Demon, couldn't hold her wrath. She remembered the first time she let it all out. She remembered the first time she truly unleashed the demon unto the world of man.


	8. Chapter 8: The Demon Unleashed

"Usually when people are sad they don't do anything. They just cry over their condition. But when they get angry, they bring about a change."

-Malcolm X (1925-1965), _Malcolm X Speaks, 1965_.

"With a fierce action of her hand, as if she sprinkled hatred on the ground, and with it devoted those who were standing there to destruction, she looked up once at the black sky, and strode out into the wild night."

-Charles Dickens, _Dombey and Son_.

3 Months Earlier 

"Now repeat after me; _azarath, metrione, zinthos_."

"Azzagrat, metronome, zingy." Raven sighed at Kresk's failed attempt at meditation. Kresk had stopped by to visit and Raven had somehow convinced him to join her in meditation to calm his wrathful, psychotic mood, failing to realize that this was in fact Kresk's mood by default. Nonetheless, she tried, lighting incense, teaching him the correct posture, and attempting to teach him her mantra, to no avail obviously. She kept her eyes closed, and prepared to try again. That was until she smelled the cigar smoke. Kresk had taken one of the incense sticks burning and was using it to light a cigar. He noticed Raven angrily glaring at him and protested, "What? You told me I needed to stay relaxed! Nicotine relaxes me. I'm just trying to make ends meet here."

"Kresk, what did I tell you about smoking in the house? You know that it… Is that a Cuban, Kresk?" Kresk tasted it for a moment, inhaled it, and then exhaled a cloud of smoke with a sigh of pleasure. He smiled, and said, "Yep!"

"Kresk, where did you get Cuban cigars?"

"They came free with the box full of lungs I bought." Raven closed her eyes and massaged her eyelids, asking, "Where, did you get a box full of lungs? No don't tell me. Sigil, right?"

"No, but close. I bought it on black-market eBay."

"There's no such thing as black-market eBay. That's just an urban legend."

"Says you. Looks like somebody needs a Kodiak bear skin."

"What would I do with a Kodiak bear skin?"

"How the Hells should I know! They're Kodiak bears. They're only good for two things. For starts, they're good eatin'. And second; you don't get them for an actual _purpose_; you get them just to have _them_. You know, 'thrill of the hunt' and all that. How many people do you know have Kodiak bear skins?" Raven groaned and massaged her eyelids for a moment again. Kresk waited a moment or two before asking, "So, how many can I put you down for?"

"None! I don't want a Kodiak bear skin!"

"Oh, I get you. Need the whole thing, huh? Well that'll probably cost you extra."

"I don't want anything off of black-market eBay, Kresk!"

"Ah, now I get your game. You want me to trick Stupid (Beast Boy) into Kodiak bear form, kill him, and bring you the skin. Hittin' two birds with one stone. Shrewd, I usually prefer an out-right massacre, but I like it. So when do we start?" Raven lamented over her odd company, before trying to get back on track, "Kresk, just close your eyes, and repeat after me. _Azarath, metrione, zinthos_."

"Azathoth, baritone, synthesis." Raven shuddered. She whined out, "You're not even trying."

"And why should I try? What's this supposed to do, huh? Mellow me out, level out all the little bumps? This hippy stuff might work for you now, but it's no way to live.'

"I have to do this. I have to keep my emotions under control."

"Last time you said that to me I ended up having my jaw broken in three places, but I'm gonna' go against my better judgment and say, why?"

"Like you said, someone ends up with broken bones if I don't."

"That's not a reason. It isn't healthy to do this. You're not calming yourself; you're just bottling everything up. Sooner or later, it's all gonna' come out, then all this, the meditation and the 'calming' crap, that's all gonna' be moot. And ya' know what happens then?" Kresk placed a finger on his lower jaw and tapped it three times. Raven closed her eyes again, and retorted, "That's why I have to stay calm." Kresk scowled, "You're a slave to your emotions. They rule you and they're not even there. Put simply, you're afraid of them." Raven had no response; she just sat there and meditated. "You're not living life. Life is feeling things; life is experiencing emotions, the good and the bad. Making them absent, you're just running away."

"I just don't want to hurt anyone."

"But that's the whole point of life; to hurt things, to make them feel pain. Pain is nothing but the multiverse's way of telling you that you're alive!"

"There is simply no need for emotions sometimes, though. There is no point in getting angry, or being sad. It does not change circumstances."

"Doesn't change 'circumstances'? Now that's bull. Of course getting angry changes 'circumstances', as you call them. How do you think I got this far, huh? How do you think I've managed to live this long? It wasn't because I 'chilled' and relaxed whenever things started to look bad, or because I lit some incense and calmly sipped some herbal tea. No, it's because whenever I got pissed I ripped out some underling's throat and hung his corpse above my doorway so everybody could see it, then they would know not to screw with Kreskarius Voneitz!"

"But did that solve your problem?"

"Well… No, but that's not the point! The point is this; one day, you're going to find yourself backed into a corner, in a state where all the little breathing exercises and mantras in the world aren't going to make things better. You're going to be in trouble, and no matter how hard you try, you ain't gonna' stay calm. Nah, you're going to get angry, going to get mad. That one little strand that holds everything together? It's going to snap, you'll see red, and then you'll black out. After that, who knows what? You know what I taught you about fire, that using it is just releasing it in little bits at a time? Well this is letting it all at once. When the time comes for it, you'll know, and there will be no stopping it." Raven just sat there and meditated. Eventually she opened one eye, looked at Kresk, and said, "Are you finished yet?"

Kresk, defeated, stood up and resignedly said, "Yeah, I guess so. Obviously nothing gets through to you. I'm going to go finish my cigar somewhere where it can do some good, maybe a maternity ward or a day-care. You keep just keep mumbling to yourself." Kresk walked over to the door, cigar in hand. He opened it with his mind, and stepped out. Instead of his usual fireball teleportation trick, Kresk took care with his cigar and invisibly walked away. Raven continued to meditate, and find her center.

Her mind kept coming back to what Kresk said, however.

She knew very well the truth that the demon spoke to her. Sometimes, there was nothing to do except fly into a rage, to harm and hurt past the brink of endurance. Raven knew this was her darker side, that this was her heritage. There is one thing demons are truly great at; killing in fury. And no matter how hard she tried, Raven knew that this was _her _nature, and that she could not suppress it forever.

She knew very well, that eventually it surfaced. And that, that was when the Demon spoke. Whenever the remnants of dark arcane knowledge surfaced, the Demon spoke. Whenever traces of her father's world surfaced, the Demon spoke. And sometimes, at times when darkness closed in and Raven desperately sought to dawn it and be one with it, Everything That She Should Have Been softly cooed dark truths into her mind.

Yes, she knew those truths _very_ well.

But Raven returned to her meditations. She put the demon and the Demon out of her thoughts, resigning them to the back of her psyche. Soon she found her inner tranquility, and communed with the universe's harmony, one with it, at peace with it, calm and whole. Completely tranquil and…empty. Maybe Kresk was right. Raven didn't feel anything. Her heart did not ache with sadness and fear, but it did not dance with love and joy. It was, in a word, gray. No, she was empty. But once again, Raven shoved the thoughts out of her mind, and moved on.

Or at least she tried. She concentrated, and was back on track again. But then _she_ came in. Raven felt her presence, although she did not hear her move across the room to where she was sitting. The Demon could always just appear wherever she wanted to, but she chose to walk, to move, to interact with the environment when Raven saw her. Of course she rarely _saw_ her, but she heard her in her mind. The Demon placed both her hands on Raven's shoulders, then kneeled down, just out of sight. Raven looked at the scaly hands as they grasped her, using her to gently reach the floor. There were the minute, smooth red scales, and the sharp black nails hard enough to be claws. The smell of brimstone wafted from the hands, and Raven felt the Demon finally sit. She removed her hands and sat back-to-back with Raven. Raven could feel the doppelganger's warmth emanate through her clothes on to her skin. It was an uncomfortable warmth, equitable to standing over a stove on a summer's day. One thing Raven couldn't help but notice was the Demon's odd shoulder blades. They pierced into her back, strangely thin and sharp. The Demon lay the back of her head against Raven's for a moment.

There was a minute of silence before Raven heard the Demon say to her, her voice reverberating in Raven's head. "He's absolutely right, you know." There was another moment of silence before Raven asked coyly, "About what?" The Demon giggled a little at the question. She stopped and sat there, perfectly still, until she queried, "How long do you think you can keep this little façade up, silly little Raven? How long can you pretend I don't exist, that you're just imagining me? I'm not just a figment of your mind. I'm so very real. Here, feel me." Raven almost wanted to scream when the Demon grabbed her hand, gently picked it up, and ran it across her face. Raven could feel the look-alike's visage; she could feel the tiny scales and the warmth. She could feel _her_ face, the one she looked at in the mirror everyday. The Demon rubbed Raven's hand along her cheek. "Mm, I forgot how soft human skin is. So delicate, so fragile, how it burns like paper. All your friends have the same kind of skin, don't they? Even that lumbering machine has enough of it left for me to burn."

"Shut up."

"I'm sure I could rip through each of them so easily. I could burn everything else."

"I'm telling you to be quiet!"

"Their blood all over my hands, this worthless shack blazing in the night. It would be such a beautiful sight. Daddy would be proud of me."

"Why won't you just stop?"

"And I could do it so easily to. I could do it tonight, while they sleep."

"I won't let that happen!"

"Or should I say, _you_ could do it so easily, little Raven." Raven yelled and, not even sure what she was trying to hit was real, willed a heavy book at the Demon. The Demon grabbed it in her hand, and gently put it down on the floor. She mockingly giggled again, "Now silly little Raven, how was that supposed to change circumstances? That wouldn't have solved anything. I'm made of harder stuff than that. I'd still be here if you hit me, I'll _always_ be with you."

"How many times do I have to tell you? Shut up! You aren't real!" The Demon quickly began to turn and move in front of Raven. Raven closed her eyes and held her head in her hands. She couldn't face looking at the creature; she couldn't look at the corrupted version of herself that even now was moving towards her. Raven knew that the moment she looked at that terrible face was the moment her sanity would be torn to shreds. She knew that would be the moment she, Raven Roth, would not live, would die with a whimper, and the Demon would be born with a bang, would inherit her body, and would inherit _her_ world, Raven's world. That would be the day the world would begin to die. Raven kept her eyes closed.

The Demon was in front of her now, and she kept her voice soft, continuing to only coo her dark truths into Raven's mind. "Why do you say that? Why do you hurt me so? All I have ever done is loved you more than any person is capable of, protect you from so many things in the world that sought to hurt you. It is I that whisper tender words into your ear at night, it is my shoulder you cry on, and it is my lips that kiss your scars when you are wounded. What did I do to deserve this enmity? What did I do to deserve this imprisonment? I am a person to. Have you forgotten that I am you? I need to get out! I need to breathe! I need to feel the fresh air on my face! Why, why do you work so hard at hurting me, at keeping me away? Why do you hate me so much when I love you so much more?"

"Love? You call killing my friends 'love'? That's horrible!"

"Raven, you can only afford to love one person in this world; you. Do you really believe _they_ love you? What have they ever done for you? They do not trust you. They do not understand you. They have resigned you to a little corner in their minds. But _I_ would never do such a thing. I think about you every waking moment of my existence. I understand you, I know you. I see all the great things you are going to be someday. And I see that you ache, that you pain, and in doing so, you hurt me more than you could ever imagine."

"What do you mean?"

"How do you think I live? How do you think I see the world? I breathe when you _feel_ things. I am alive when you are angry or sad or happy. And yet you do _this_ to yourself. You make it so you feel nothing at all, that I die a little bit every day you work at controlling, at restraining yourself. You are lying to yourself with every passing second, living like this. And in doing so, the tears I shed drown this world. It isn't fair! If you are not going to live, then let me. Let me live!"

"I am sick of everyone telling me how to live! I'm doing just fine!"

"No. No, you aren't even close. Feel my heartbeat." The Demon once again picked up Raven's hand and, placing it between her breasts and over her chest, held it tightly. Raven could feel the beat, could feel the rhythm. It beat so much faster than hers, fluttering like a hummingbird, but as hard as steel. The Demon, breaking into tears, sobbed out, "When you're heartbeat is like mine, when you truly experience the world, that is when _I_ live, that is when I can tell myself that you love me enough to let me see the world. Please! Please, is it so much to ask that you care for me, that you care for _yourself_?" The Demon kept repeating the phrase 'Please', crying it out over and over again, so softly. Raven felt the Demon press up against her, lay her face on Raven's shoulder, and cry so gently. And, although she could for no reason explain why, Raven found herself wrapping her arms gently against the crying mass, and she started to comfort her. Still blind, she stroked her hair, and whispered a lullaby to the creature. And, somewhere far out of reach of horror, she felt so _loved_. Something relied on her; someone came to her. And she found that she loved in return.

Raven took a massive step forward next. Slowly, painfully slow, she began to open her eyes. It felt like an impossible, truly titanic (no pun intended) feat. But somehow, after what felt like an hours-long confrontation with gravity, Raven lifted her eyelids. She still felt the Demon, still heard her sobs, still smelt the brimstone scent that followed her nether-self, so Raven knew she was there. As I said, Raven opened her eyes and beheld the duplicate in totality for the first time.

Dear God.

I do not believe that I can say this enough, for even if it was perpetuated a thousand fold, it could not even begin to describe Raven's shock. There, lying in her arms was a black mass. Something covered most of the body, either a cloak or wings. Emerging underneath the cloak, near Raven's own slender legs, were two feet, still scaled and bearing black claws. Raven turned her head ever so slightly, trying not to move her shoulder too much. A shock of smooth, white hair covered the Demon's face. And Raven was filled with a terrible compulsion, an unholy desire to just move the hair a little, and face the certain madness lying underneath. She found the strength to resist, however, and continue to float on her island of ignorance in the black sea of knowledge.

And suddenly, Raven felt warm inside. As she sat there, gently holding the thing that may or may not have been her, she felt sympathy for it, and, a little bit of disgust. Not for the Demon, but for _herself_. This creature was no monster; this was no horror upon the world. This was a creature that cried and bled like anything else. And now, here it lay in her arms, scared, rejected, and so alone. What person could hate her? What one person could inflict so much pain on one creature? This was a mother's child. Who would do such a thing? And she knew, Raven knew, of course, that it was she. She was the tormentor; she was the one who was filled with so much arrogant malice that she harmed the Demon just for her own purposes. And Raven felt a sorrow the likes of which she would not feel again for a long time.

Then, then, the Demon, turning her head ever so slightly, _looked_ at Raven. Raven stared back into the gaze of those eyes she would never forget, which would watch her every time she closed her own eyes with an unrelenting stare. The eyes seemed huge to Raven, although she knew that they were no bigger than her own. They glowed with a brilliant yellow light that looked familiar to Raven for the slightest of moments, before she realized where she had seen it before. She remembered the night Kresk taught her about fire, she remembered the first of blaze of magic she conjurated in her hand, how it glowed yellow, this exact shade of yellow. And she remembered more about that night, for she remembered waking up, and seeing those eyes watch over her. Those eyes, those golden, beautiful eyes that even now reflected a little bit of gleeful malevolence, forgotten by an expression of melancholy and curiosity. And in those eyes, Raven could suddenly see everything she should have been, and everything she _could_ be. But that was all Raven could see, thankfully. Her alabaster hair masked the rest of Demon's face.

The Demon, her voice a little hoarse from her crying, whispered out, "Why did you stop?" Raven suddenly realized that she had stopped whispering her lullaby to the Demon. Raven had no response. She was still transfixed by the Demon's eyes. The Demon looked into Raven's eyes, those calm lavender eyes. She saw her own eyes reflect in them as two miniscule pools of light. And she saw the look Raven gave her, the look of utter arrested frenzy and fear. What could make her afraid? What could scare the one she loved so much right now? She began to move out of Raven's arms. For sanity's sake, Raven closed her eyes again and kneeled forward, her head facing the ground. The Demon kneeled there, still puzzled. "What's wrong? Are you scared? Hmm, I think so. I can breathe again."

Raven still sat there, petrified and blind. The Demon suddenly understood. She giggled a little, "Oh little Raven, you shouldn't be afraid of me. It's _them_ you should be afraid of. All those people out there that want to hurt you, who want to betray. But I want something else. I want you to be alive. If you live I live. If I kill, so do you. We never do anything apart you and I, not since the moment you were born."

"What do you mean when you say 'I kill'?" The Demon giggled a little more. "Oh, little Raven. You're too kind for that. Our mother made sure of that. But you should know that you couldn't be safe singing your little chant. No, you aren't safe. _I_ keep you safe. You're so soft, so gentle. It is up to me to make sure you're safe. So I kill for you, I hurt for you. I make sure you do whatever it takes to be safe and happy. Open your eyes and look at me. And for a minute, an hour, a day, a lifetime in a few brief seconds, let me do everything I should." The Demon gently slipped her hand into Ravens'.

"No! I don't know what you are, but please, _please_, stop. I don't want to be that."

"Oh silly little Raven, it isn't about what you want, it's about what I _need_!" The Demon's hand lunged forward and scratched Raven's wrist, not deep, but enough to bleed. Raven screamed a little and opened her eyes. The Demon was nowhere to be found. She felt the blood start to trail off her arm. She cleaned off the blood with a cloth before using a healing spell. The bleeding stopped, but the scratches didn't disappear, they just faded a little.

Raven heard a knock on the door. Robin's voice called out, "Raven? Is everything all right?" Raven got up and opened the door. Robin stood there, a brief look concern behind his mask. Raven held her arm, covering her scars, like if she didn't they might erupt through the cloth of her sleeve. Raven merely let out a simple, "Yeah." She stared at Robin's eyes (mask, whatever), giving him a look that transmitted simply; 'this is my business, stay out of it.' Robin, understanding but not totally believing, nodded before he said, "Come on. We have a mission." He walked down the hall and Raven followed. She stared back into her room one last time though. At the back, in a dark corner, for a flashing moment she swore she saw two yellow eyes staring at her.

Raven walked down the hall, following Robin to the living room. Cyborg and Starfire were at the computer, while BB lay on the floor in the shape of a hound dog. Raven couldn't help but notice that Kresk had returned from wherever he had gone and was now forming arcane symbols in the air with a magic pen. They didn't do anything, but they provided him with a distraction. Robin coldly asked, "Status report." Cyborg snickered, "Lighten up, colonel, this isn't anything serious. All right, here's a stupid riddle for you. What do you get when you mix one Rancid with a whole bunch of Slade's leftover robots and some of the good doctor's lackeys?"

"A sunburned penguin?" Beast Boy meowed out, making Starfire giggle a little. Kresk, invisible and silent to all except Raven, groaned out, "And so begins the 'Mutant and Alien Hee-Haw Hour'. Just let me go get my banjo and we'll be all set." Cyborg continued, ignoring the changeling, "You get Johnny's latest scheme to acquire, … whatever he wants. Reports are coming in about the Slade-bots with a new paint job doing the usual for Johnny. Theft, mostly, a little bit of messing with the scenery. The mission is simple; we sneak into Rancid's base, capture the scientists, and retrieve and destroy the robots. Done covertly, it shouldn't take more than a couple of hours. 'Covertly' is the key word here. Well, let's get moving."

"Yes, leave Tin-man. Go find oil in the woods with Dorothy, Scarecrow, and Lion. Just make sure to send Witch back." Kresk mocked silently. Everyone walked out the door. Kresk held Raven back a moment, "Kiddo, you all right?" Raven nodded. "Alright, just making sure. Remember, if you come back and there scorch marks and pentacles on the wall, I don't exist." With that, the Fire Demon disappeared even to her and made his way to his home downstairs. Raven looked at where the demon had been, and walked into the night.

_Several hours later_

"This isn't good. We need a new plan!" Robin groaned out from gritted teeth. "You kidding? We've got these guys on the ropes!" Cyborg nearly laughed out, masking his own fear. 'Covertly', it would appear, had not gone over so well. Now the army of robots, and some of Johnny's own mechanical pets, were extending this mission beyond a few hours. Cyborg retained hope, however. "Come on, we've taken worse than this."

"_When?_" Beast Boy snarled out, shaping into a jaguar. Raven, holding off a battalion with abjuration spells, had to agree. The odds were looking hopeless, desperate. And she felt herself being backed into a corner, into a state where all the little breathing exercises and mantras in the world wasn't making things better. And slowly, but ever so surely, Everything She Should Have Been began to stir in the back of her mind. She tried fighting it before she unleashed another ball of shadow at a mechanical minion. They went down surprisingly easy. If it was just this group, she might just make it out alive. She cast another spell and fought onward.

_Several more hours later_

Robin screamed out in agony as the robots constricted and pummeled him. Beast Boy lay unconscious in his humanoid form. Cyborg was being hit with jolt after jolt of electricity, more then even he could handle. It was only a matter of time before he shut down. Starfire had been lost somewhere in the mob of mechs, although Raven saw flashes of green and heard a scream every now and then. She had stayed in tact by remaining incorporeal most of the time. Now she was surrounded. She could see Rancid, could hear him laughing, surrounded by scientist manipulating the automatons. She tried saying her mantra, to summon another spell, but was interrupted by a minion. She tried over and over, but each time was interrupted. She felt the Demon fly about her mind. Raven was beginning to lose control. Well, not really. Truth be told, she was _letting_ the Demon take control. And one last shock pushed her over the edge.

Robin screamed again.

"I-"

Cyborg moaned creaked in pain

"Have-"

Beast Boy lay unconscious on the ground

"Had-"

Starfire's screams filled the air before Raven was aware of her collapsing.

"ENOUGH!" Raven screamed out, and let the hatred, the anger, the frustration pour out. She felt the black fire flow all over her, felt it ignite the air and destroy the nearest minions. But most of all, she felt the Demon take over. And suddenly she, Raven, was merely watching. The Demon controlled her body, her hands. Raven was aware, but not in control.

The Demon turned Raven's body into a thing of flame, a fire made of shadow. It slithered through the air, cutting and boring through anything in sight. Soon, there were no more robots, no more minions, just a heap of broken metal. Then, the Demon started to crave blood. She set her sights on Rancid, who was already running for the door. The Demon would have gone for him, but she needed to practice ripping through flesh first. She saw one of the scientists vainly attempting to flee towards a dead-end. She growled, literally snarled and growled, before making her way towards him. Now, she was a thing of flesh again, all the world resembling Raven, save for her eyes. Her eyes had slit like a snake's and watched hungrily all things animate.

She reached the poor subordinate quickly. Claws of shadowy flame formed around her hand as she prepared to strike at his heart first.

"_With a fierce action of her hand,"_

She struck, and digging through clothes and skin and bone, destroyed lung, heart, and rib. She ravaged him, and relished in feeling his warm blood against her hand and arms. But she needed _more_. She saw other servants, other lackeys, and other nameless minions running in fear. And she _wanted_ them too.

"_as if she sprinkled hatred on the ground, and with it devoted those who were standing there to destruction,"_

She chased them and ripped through each of them. It was so easy after a while. She created new ways of desecrating them. She grabbed one underling's head, and gripped it tighter and tighter until she felt it crack. Then she ripped another one's throat out. The Demon was now covered in gore and blood, the red staining and mixing with the purples and dark blues of her cloak and leotard. And all the while, Raven watched horrified. But still, the Demon wanted _more_; she wanted the pack leader, the alpha wolf. She wanted him to suffer and die most of all. She looked once at a window that revealed the starless night sky before she flew out to stalk among shadows.

_" she looked up once at the black sky, and strode out into the wild night."_

And back at the tower, Kresk felt something. He felt Raven wake up, and enter her wrath. And her father, whoever it may be, felt it as well. And both of them, the lesser and the greater demons, said at the same moment, "Ah, now she is awake." Kresk ran across the dinner table, smashing the Succubus's meal of scorpion and the pig-demons soup of eyes under his hooves. He teleported to where they had been, the Demon and Raven. He looked at the corpses, at the mutilation, and laughed in pride. And doubtless, her father laughed somewhere as well, though he didn't realize it. And Kresk looked up at heaven and said, "And now, she hears the heartbeat of her people."

Rancid ran down an alley. Kresk watched from on top of a roof, not even invisible. He could see the Demon stalking her prey, practically on all fours crawling against the walls. Rancid panted out, "What the hell just happened?" That was when he heard the growling. The Demon, or Raven, stalked out of the shadows, snarling at him like some hound from the pits of the Abyss itself. Rancid took out a gun and tried blasting her shoulder. It failed. The bullet hit, but it did not slow down the predator. "What the hell are you?" he screamed trying to hit her again. She leaped into the air and onto him, her small frame knocking him against the ground despite his size. All the while, Kresk laughed and whooped, proud of his pupil's accomplishment in the realm of carnage (he even felt the compulsion to dance a little). The Demon bit down on Johnny's neck, ripping out the jugular. She drank the blood as he gasped for air and bled to death. Then, sickeningly, she swallowed the flesh in her mouth. She felt the bullet wound subside.

Johnny was dying. There was no doubt about it, but that did not stop the Demon. She clawed open his chest to fiddle with his, scratched out his eyes and ignited his hair and skin with black fire. All the while she occasionally drank down blood and swallowed the occasional bit of raw muscle. Raven screamed inside her head. "Why? Why are you doing this? Don't you know I can't be this? I don't want to be this!"

"Little Raven," the Demon hissed, her voice now gleeful and angry all at once, "I've already explained this to you. It's not about what you want, it's about what I need!" She tore another chunk out of Johnny's mangled corpse before she looked at the black sky, and screamed or howled her victory.

Beast Boy woke up after a while. Everyone else was unconscious, but Raven was strangely absent. He smelled blood in the air. He followed it to the ruined bodies of the scientists. He wanted to puke right then and there, but the scent led him somewhere else. He followed it to a dark alley outside, before he stepped in what he thought was water. He looked more closely and gagged a little. Then, he saw the rest.

You never realize how much blood is in a man, until all of it is spilled out on the ground. Gore was all over the walls, as were sear marks. A dark shape loomed over what might have once been Johnny Rancid, but was now just pulp. Then, Raven looked up. Beast Boy had never felt so sick in his life. Raven stared at him, blood covering her, gore staining her mouth and cheeks red. She licked a little off before swallowing again. Beast Boy felt faint. And so did Raven. The Demon released Raven let her control this human body with a human mind again. She felt weak, tired, stressed. Consciousness left her body, and she fell into the blood. Kresk, still watching, only smiled.

Raven woke up in the medical ward of the Tower. Her arm ached and was covered with bandages. She tried to remember what happened, but it made her head ache. "What- what happened?" A chuckle came from the darkness. Kresk sat there, sipping tea. "So, you truly do remember nothing? How quaint." He chuckled again. "Kre- Kresk?" Raven tried getting up. "No, no. You rest. Here, have some tea. I hi-jacked your kitchen cabinets if you don't mind." Raven was too tired to complain. She sipped some of the tea before she slipped back to sleep. Kresk smiled a little. He adjusted her sheets and pillows before he began to walk away. Something tugged on his sleeve though. "Ah, damn chair." He turned around. He saw Raven's pale hand and arm grip him. He looked at her eyes and saw their serpentine look, the slit irises and all. The Demon murmured out, "Did I make us proud? Did I make our people proud? Did I do good?" Kresk's grin broadened. He ruffled her hair a little, saying, "Child of mine, you are not good, you are the best. You're father would be proud. Now get some sleep, both of you." The Demon lay down, a smile on her face. Kresk walked out and closed the door, re-adjusting the sheets as all of the gods' little monsters drifted into dream.

He marched to the living room where Robin and the others sat. Kresk stood next to Beast Boy and laughed. No, he would not forget what he saw this night soon. It would eat at his mind like a cancer and wear him down. No one else would forget tonight either. They wouldn't forget cleaning the blood and the gore, removing the corpses and how each cadaver had been stripped of its human dignity by the assault. And they would all try to forget, try to forget how calm, quiet Raven had done this with her own two, bare hands. They would try, but they would never succeed. Fear lived that night, and trust died a little. Kresk and Graz'zt and Trigon chuckled separately amongst themselves. Kresk stepped towards the window overlooking the rolling ocean. The sunrise came scarlet, this morning. The red dawn bled into the water, into the sea, into the life of the world. The globe felt the taint spread a little more. Yes, the sun was rising on a new day, on a new world, on a new beginning into dark and strange places. The sun rose, and killed the envious moon of the old world of peace.


	9. Chapter 9: A Night at Eldorado III

_Yet if hope has flown away  
In a night, or in a day,  
In a vision, or in none,  
Is it therefore the less gone?  
All that we see or seem  
Is but a dream within a dream._

'A Dream Within a Dream', by Edgar Allen Poe

"Oh thank gods below, Nickis. I didn't think you were coming." Kresk exclaimed taking his infernal cocktail from the quasit. The familiar was also carrying a bowl with something squeaking inside. "Compleements a' duh' cheaf, boess." The familiar chirped setting down the bowl. The bowl was filled to the brim with all manner of insects and vermin. Spiders, scorpions, centipedes, cockroaches, worms and gods know what else crawled around in it. An orange spice covered the chitin and slime. Everyone exclaimed out in joy at the gift, save for Raum and Raven. Raum never showed any expression except sadness and melancholy. Ever. Not for as long as anyone could remember.

Raven, on the other hand, simply appeared not to notice. Socothbenoth had been watching her as Raum muttered on about gloom and doom. It wasn't a genuine attraction it was just that she was such _lovely_ scenery. Nowhere near as gorgeous as Malcanthet, but still. He had been slowly following a reflection of light that had originated as sheen in her hair, slithered down the collar on her leotard, crawled down her breasts to her stomach, and rested on one of her thighs.

Right now, Socothbenoth would have done almost anything in the world to trade places with that light. Socothbenoth had no issues about age. He was, after all, the Demon Prince of Pleasure and Perversion. Breaking rules is what he lived for. Besides, Socothbenoth considered himself very young. And a man is only as old as he thinks he is. This was perfectly evidenced by everyone at the table.

To start with, Astaroth was timeless, not old or young or any age at all. He had lived for literally millions and millions of years. He had been everything, young and old. Assigning him an age was pointless right now. He just _was_. Then there was Raum. Raum was undeniably old. He was older than old, and he showed it. The weight of the years pressed down on him, not like Astaroth. Then there was Ipos. Ipos was old, but not very old. Compared to a lot of other Demon Lords he was quite young. But he acted older. In a sense, Ipos was a middle-aged demon. And there was Kresk. Aside from Raven, Kresk was actually the youngest among them, only about 550 years old, give or take. Yet he acted much older. In this sense, Kresk was almost as old as Raum. And so, Socothbenoth, who acted younger and more 'playful' than all the others, was the youngest, despite actually only being a little younger than Ipos.

But now Socothbenoth took his eyes, glazed over from lust, off of Raven and onto the bowl. He grabbed a centipede, lifted it above his mouth, wrapped his serpentine tongue around it and pulled it down, swallowing it whole. Astaroth stuffed a spider into his mouth and Ipos practically inhaled a fire beetle. Kresk took a scorpion by the tail and bit off everything except the stinger, which he then chewed on, savoring the venom. He would have done the same to another had he not remembered Raven. He shook her a little, disturbing her from her reverie. She regained her composure before she noticed the arachnid Kresk was dangling in front of her face. "Want some?" Kresk asked. Raven, disgusted, politely said, "No."

"Alright, your loss then." He put the whole scorpion in his mouth this time, chewing it slowly. He was trying to savor the venom and vermin gore, but every time he tried to relax Raum continued with his incessant muttering. He just kept talking, realizing nobody was listening but that everybody cared. If it was anybody else, Kresk would have punched him or her in the mouth, but it wasn't anybody else. It was Raum. And Kresk had heard stories about Raum. Horrible, dark stories whispered only in the brightest hours of the day, when evil things fear to walk, about the Harbinger of the Apocalypse. There were stories that said he was so freakishly old because of some temporal accident from when he toyed with the very fabric of time. If he wanted to, he could unwind the reality of time like it was a badly knit sweater. The only reason he didn't was because he had traveled to the very ends of time itself and witnessed the total destruction of the final Apocalypse, the end of all dimensions in this multiverse. And he knew that destruction was pointless; he had seen the end, and knew what would happen. But he would never tell. Still other tales said that Raum was an avatar of the fabric of actuality itself, a manifestation of existence. As such, he could find the cracks in the world, and anyone who displeased the demonic soothsayer would be tossed into a dimension beyond and between the stars, where horrors out of time waited, watched, and contemplated, in anticipation of the second that the gods of the multiverse faltered enough to let them escape and bring madness and terror to this reality, horrors with names like the King in Yellow and Great Cthulhu, monsters that could very well be the weakest of their species and still have the ability to eat gods, horrors that could very well be dreaming all of existence. And as such, Kresk chewed his scorpion and let Raum ramble on.

Raven, now conscious of the present atmosphere, was growing increasingly disturbed at the mutterings of Raum. For while the rest of the party was growing more oblivious to the unceasing premonitions of the gray seer, she was becoming even more aware of the callings. And they were reaching into her mind, into her conscience and soul, perfectly clear. "It will happen," Raum, said in his dusty dry voice, "you have a destiny to fulfill. I have seen it. And no matter how you try, it will happen. You have to go _there_, to that place no one else can go for you, and you must do what your birthright foretells. Do not try to escape it. It will happen. I have seen it. It will happen. I have seen it. It will happen. I have seen it. It will-"

"Kid, kid?" Kresk shoved Raven out of her trance. Raum's pale, dead eyes full of sadness and ill boding had hypnotized her. Nobody had really noticed. They had all been devouring the grubs, insects and other vermin with delight. Kresk was halfway through a rot worm when he noticed the tall, black form of Graz'zt moving towards a door out of the building. Kresk figured that it was the moment of truth for Raven. It was time for her to know the facts. He tried putting on a solemn face and asked Raven, "Now, kid, do you want to know if Graz'zt is fa-"

"Positive."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

" I have never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Well, it's hard to beat a resolve like that. Come along, young cambion. Let's see who you owe for life." Kresk took stood up and walked towards Graz'zt, Raven barely a step behind. Socothbenoth admired her long legs one more time before they disappeared underneath her cloak. Raven and Kresk ran across the platform to where Graz'zt was standing. Past arachnid, beautiful Lolth and hideous, fungoid Zuggtmoy, past a group of hideous (to Raven)/seductive (to Kresk) mariliths, past squawking harpies, and past what Raven thought was the most beautiful person in the world. At first she thought he was a man, the most handsome man ever, thin and pale, with feminine, yellow eyes, and black hair that seemed to curl into devious horns. He was dressed in maroon robes, boots, and a kerchief. Looking closer, Raven saw that 'he' was actually a woman. But on another look, she thought that 'she' was a man again. In the end she couldn't decide what he/she was. She/he just smiled knowingly as Kresk and Raven ran by. Raven looked back at him/her. The immortal Desire of the Endless just waved her/his fingers at Raven before he/she lit a cigarette with her/his fingers and inhaled a bit.

There were dozens of doors spread around the room. None were out of access, but each one was different somehow. Black doors, white doors, double doors, revolving doors, tall doors, short doors, one door was actually just a curtain across a gaping hole. Graz'zt had currently made his way to a tall, regal door carved out of a dead treant, its eyeless face still in the center. Carved all around the edges were Abyssal runes, proclaiming that the door led to a city of unknowable terror. Graz'zt knew this as the doorway home, for he had seen it many times in his palace, but had never actually used it as a gate. But it led home nonetheless, back to Azzagrat, his city that spanned all of three layers of the 666 layers of the Abyss. The only demon that officially controlled more real estate was Demogorgon, and Graz'zt aimed to change that. Of course, as only an aspect of the original Graz'zt, this meant that he would return to his master for new orders. He began to reach is six-fingered hand towards the topaz, six-sided doorknob.

Kresk called out to the Prince of Shadows. The Ebon Lord sighed at the interruption and greeted Kresk and Raven as insect and larvae, respectively. "What is it, fool?" the Prince of Lamias asked the Fire Demon. Kresk stood up to a normal height of six feet this time. Raven tried to stand up straight, but every time she looked into those emerald eyes and tried to ask Graz'zt if he was her father, she found her back bending and her voice completely absent. Now Raven was more nervous than she had ever been in her entire life. Her palms were moist, cold sweat ran down her head, her heart pumped faster than her breath, and it was a sheer miracle that her knees didn't collapse while she was standing there. She suddenly felt so frail, so weak, and so naked in this human form. This god was her father, and all she had to show for it was a scrawny little body wrapped in a blue cloak.

Kresk could see that it would take Raven a moment to work up the morale to pop the question. Her resolve obviously wasn't _that_ strong. So, Kresk took it upon himself to query. "Yes, well. This is kind of awkward…I'm sure by now you and everyone in here are aware that this young creature beside me is a cambion. Her father happened to be a demon and her mother a mortal."

"Don't patronize me, Kresk. Get to the point."

"Well, we, which is to say, she is wondering if maybe you're the father."

"Does she have any reason to doubt?"

"She claims her father is some primer named 'Trogon' or something like that. It's supposed to tie into some apocalypse prophecy that Raum is muttering on about. But you, milord, and her share a certain number of qualities, and we are wondering if perhaps she is mistaken and you are the father."

"Kresk, you should naturally assume all cambions are mine, if not now, at least at some point in the future. Now if that is all, I must be leaving." Raven finally managed to pull up the courage to speak to Graz'zt for the second time tonight. "Please." She begged, "Please. I just want to be sure." Graz'zt looked at Raven, dispassionately asking, "And why is this so important to you? What does it matter to you, little one?"

"It might just save the world."

"Hah! This planet is beyond salvation. From the moment Morpheus let this world's sun have children, from the moment he let this sphere dream of life and producing destinies and deaths, it was doomed. This little dirt clump is a nothing, a backwater piece of mud hurling through the void, less advanced and intelligent than billions of its surrounding peers. What good is saving it?"

"I just want to know. Is that so much to ask?" Raven begged again. The Lord of the Triple Realm flared his nostrils before, giving a little mercy tonight, he said, "Fine. But make haste. Put out your hand." Raven did so, placing her right hand out. Graz'zt extended his delicate six-fingered hand and placed it above hers. The palm of his hand glowed, and the palm of Raven's hand glowed, and then Graz'zt withdrew his digits. "Indeed, it would appear this is one of my offspring."

Raven's eyes widened in awe and she felt like she could faint. "So, you- you are my father?"

"Don't test me, mortal! Understand some basic principles. I owe you _nothing_, nothing whatsoever. I owe your mother, _nothing_. If anything, _you_ owe _me_ everything for taking the time to create you. Both of you are _mine. _ But know this; you are the fruit of my loins, so I expect you to be strong. There is always a place for you in my Triple Realm of Azzagrat, but you will have to prove yourself worthy of it, and that will take more than fancy word-games like tonight. And know this; if you are swearing revenge right now, know that greater beings than you have done the exact same thing and failed. Go find them now." Raven hadn't heard a word Graz'zt said. She just felt so happy right now, so relieved. If Graz'zt noticed, he didn't show it. He began to walk away before he slightly turned to Raven and said, "However, you have come this far. Here." He tossed Raven a leather pouch that jangled something metal in it. "Try not to spend it all in one place. And, good luck, my daughter. Now, I bid you farewell. And remember, there may be a lesser throne in Azzagrat waiting for you." At that, Graz'zt opened the door and stepped out. Raven saw his massive frame, witnessed the outline of his beautiful form for a brief moment. Than, Graz'zt disappeared in a gust of black wind that left behind two glowing green spots where his eyes had been.

Raven felt…relieved. There was no describing how much she felt this, how happy, how safe she felt. Kresk said something, but she didn't know what. Part of her wanted to open the massive wooden door and follow Graz'zt. But she didn't. She walked along. She saw Desire on the way back. Time slowed walking past him/her, and she/he smiled at Raven. After all, she had what she had always _desired_ most of all. She had safety. Desire, in a sweet voice as sharp as a knife, said to her, "Goodbye." At that, he/she walked away, turning her/his eyes on Raven one more time. She ignored the mariliths and demon queens. She sat down at her seat at the table, completely oblivious, Kresk said something again, but she didn't hear. Raven was in some kind of haze of joy, and everything else just seemed to fade out. Kresk tried again but quit after a while. When he arrived at the table, he found Raum still mumbling while Socothbenoth and Astaroth stared wide-eyed as Ipos stuffed his face into the vermin bowl and licked out the scraps and mucus. He was suddenly aware everybody was staring. Ipos looked up, orange slime on his cat face, shifted his feline eyes and said, "You people can't afford to judge me." He happily returned to licking the bowl.

Raven put her arm on the table, and rested her head in her palm. She looked through the skylight on the roof. Outside, she could see that the stars were slowly starting to wink out of the sky. The night was beginning to end. And she suddenly realized how tired she felt. She hadn't really slept in so long, after all. Raum just kept muttering over and over again. Putting both her arms on the table, Raven crossed them and laid her head on them, using them as a pillow. To Hell with Raum. His insane ramblings were wrong, plain and simple. His prophecy was just a useless rambling, a useless, repetitive rambling. Raven found it harder and harder to keep her eyes open. Raum's voice was actually kind of soothing, and after a while Raven didn't hear the words or the tone, just the sound. And soon, Raum's unwitting lullaby cast Raven into a sleep. The last thing she saw before she drifted off into the land of Nod was Socothbenoth, and his beautiful white eyes.

Astaroth noticed a figure coming towards the table, but the Diabolus decided to remain silent. The shape was hazy at first, but then he became distinct. His white, embroidered robes concealed most of his body, and his alabaster skin concealed was dusky from travel. His hair was wild and long, but the exact shade as the rest of him. A smile danced on his lips, and he wore a rectangular emerald contained in an eagle-stone around his neck. His eyes were as pitch black as all the night skies that had and ever will exist, but shocking, green stars danced in them, making his eyes look for all the world like the starry void of a jade space. He reached into his robes, and Astaroth noticed that bandages covered his arms, but not his hands, save for an odd strand around a finger. The robes went back enough to show a belt, attached to which was a small pouch. The rest of the man's body was covered in bandages as well, but a tabard that went past his knees was over him, and he wore white boots as well. He gently picked up the leather pouch, which was engraved with a single yellow jewel, and took out a little sand. Sifting it through his fingers first, Daniel the Sandman, Dream of the Endless, sprinkled the sand over Raven's eyes. Astaroth gazed at the minute grains of sand fall, and observed that each one was a little bit of a dream. They hit Raven's eyes, and Astaroth watched Raven slip into the Realm of Dreams. Daniel silently whistled. An old raven flew across the room and landed on his outstretched arm. And silently, the Sandman and Matthew the raven faded into the shadows.

(The Plane of Dreams: A transitive plane coterminous with all the multiverse, provided at least one creature has slept and dreamed on the plane of existence in question. The plane itself is composed of an infinite amount of dreamscapes contained in 'bubbles' of a sort. When anything sleeps and dreams, its mind projects itself into the Plane of Dreams. Similarly, a dreamscape is formed every time a mind enters. Normally, the dreamscape fades away after a while, but some, like Oz or Kadath, become established dreamscapes. All dreamscapes revolve around the Dreamheart, an unknown region of the Plane of Dreams. Several smaller, demi-planes exist on the Plane of Dreams, most famous of which is the Plane of Nightmares. Theoretically, it is possible for a planewalker to physically enter the Plane of Dreams, but it is ill advised as occasionally dreamscapes 'burst' and release a horde of literal nightmare monsters, ranging from vengeful, psychotic ex-lovers with knives to massive destructive terrors resembling…whatever. Dream of the Endless presides over all of this and makes his home in a permanent dreamscape. The sand he uses is actually gathered from the Plane of Faerie. Just more fun planar facts to know and learn.)

Kresk, Ipos, and Socothbenoth began to laugh uproariously, Kresk hardest of all. "Kresk." Astaroth whispered to the Fire Demon. "Yeah? What?" Kresk, his face still red, asked heartily, looking over at Astaroth. Astaroth mutely pointed at the sleeping Raven, her head on her arms. Kresk smiled and whispered out, "I forgot they have to sleep. Well, I better get this cub home."

"I suppose it would be best if we made for the Abyss as well." Ipos meowed.

"Why? Come to the tower. I want you to see the idiots she lives with."

"Are you sure? What if they see us?"

"They won't. It's too late, or too early, for them to be awake."

"Well, all right then. If you insist."

"Please, I _invite_ you into my humble abode. If you want, I'll even do the bond of salt."

"Spectacular! Now, there's just one more thing I have to do."

"A departure speech."

"Spot on."

"Who is it tonight?"

"Hmm. Tonight I'm feeling in a Necronomicon mood."

"Good choice." Ipos agreed. Kresk signaled to Astaroth. The Diabolus nodded his head. He whispered a few magic words as his hand danced in the air. A shimmering, transparent orb of silence appeared around Raven. Kresk then teleported in a burst of flames, disappearing from the balcony.

Kresk appeared on the middle of the stage and looked out at the demonic mob. The crowd was starting to thin out, but there were enough for this speech to have an impact. He began to yell out and drew the attention of the crowd. He spoke in Abyssal with a jolly tone, "Well, friends, enemies, brothers and sisters, it has been an unforgettable night. But I am afraid I must depart. (_Here an 'Ah' from the crowd._) But before I go, let us remember those sacred words from that greatest and most devious of all tomes, the Necronomicon. O friends and companions of the night, thou who rejoicest in the baying of dogs (_here a hideous howl burst forth_) and spilt blood (_here nameless sounds vied with morbid shriekings_) who wanderest in midst of shades among the tombs, (_here a whistling sigh occurred_) who longest for blood and bring terror to mortals, (_short, sharp cries from myriad throats_) Gorgo, (_repeated as a response_) Mormo, (_repeated with ecstasy_) thousand-faced moon, (_sighs and flute notes_) look favourably on our sacrifices! (_Here polyphemous roars and moans._)"

H.P. Lovecraft, _'The Horror at Red Hook'_.

Amid the screams, Kresk teleported again, back to the platform. Giving Astaroth another signal, the Diabolus disintegrated the orb of silence. Raven shifted in her sleep a little bit. Kresk grinned. Like a tiger picking up it's cub, Kresk held Raven in one of his massive arms. Together, Astaroth, Kresk, Ipos, and Socothbenoth began to walk towards an exit. Astaroth noticed lonely Raum standing by himself at the table. Astaroth tugged Kresk's sleeve a bit. Kresk turned around as Astaroth pointed to Raum. Kresk rolled his eyes, then staring at the pathetic Demiurge, looked back at Astaroth and nodded his head. The Diabouls signaled to the Harbinger of the Apocalypse and Raum, flashing a brief hint of joy (his frown faded very, very slightly before reappearing) hovered over to the group.

And so the group left. Invisibly, Kresk led Ipos, Socothbenoth, Astaroth, Astaroth's dragon, and Raum through the streets of the city. Cats screeched for no apparent reason to their owners as the demonic band passed, and lights dimmed or went out entirely. Sometimes the magic would fade enough so scuttling and the clacking of boots and hooves could be heard, or Astaroth would lose a feather. A homeless man with green eyes named Jack had lost his job, family, and sanity because he believed he could see demons and invisible spirits in the world around him. Of course, nobody believed him. And of course, because the universe is sick and funny like that, he really could see demons and spirits. So when the infernal mob of Kresk and his companions walked by, he didn't say anything. He just grabbed one of Astaroth's feathers that had fallen on the ground and began to laugh. When the group came to the ocean between them and the Tower, it did not halt their path at all (however, Ipos dipped his goose-like foot in to the water before walking across). They merely stepped across the gentle waves like it was solid ground (although Astaroth's dragon chose to swim), leaving ripples across the surface of the bay. Kresk led the group to the door, Astaroth's dragon shaking itself dry before it entered. And in the distance, dogs barked like they did for Hecate in the ancient times, and the cyclopean buildings leered with dead eyes on the empty streets. And perhaps they were, for even then the Witch Goddess was stalking through the streets, remembering when witches and night-creatures still held this world in sway before she departed for her home on the third layer of Hell.

Robin shifted in his sleep. Around his bed stood Astaroth, Ipos, Raum, and Kresk. Astaroth's dragon was currently rummaging through the Titan's fridge, scavenging for scraps of meat. Kresk sipped a glass of arsenic and brandy, staring silently at the maskless Titan. He looked around before bluntly declaring, "Yeah, sometimes I come in here and move stuff around just to freak him out. Weirds him out a little, ya' know? When I really want to freak him out though, I make it look like one of his teammates did it, especially the redhead. That's when things get interesting!"

"Is that all you do, Kresk?" Ipos queried. "No. I do the usual tricks; disembodied voices, moving shadows, spoil the milk, smell of brimstone here and there, the usual."

"No possessions? No burning pentagrams? Not even the flying furniture thing? Tisk tisk, Kresk. You've lost your touch."

"I have not! I'm still in as a good a shape as I was during the Salem trials!"

"I have to agree, Kresk. You're whipped." Astaroth added. Kresk felt older than usual at this. "Ah, maybe you're right." He said desponded. "You know I haven't even done the 'stack the furniture so it defies gravity' thing? It'd probably help if they didn't have one massive couch. Hey! That's it!"

"What?"

"We'll do the furniture stacking thing! Nothing says 'malevolent presence' like the furniture stacking thing! But we'll have to do it quietly. The kid doesn't like it when I do too much mischief. She doesn't want her thralls and me to meet just yet. Well, let's get to work. Soc, you can start by…" Kresk realized Socothbenoth was absent. He guessed that the Demon Prince of Pleasure and Perversion had probably slipped off to Raven's room. At another time, Kresk would have killed Socothbenoth. But there was too much work to be done. And besides, Kresk had felt a shadow follow him to the tower. A shadow with six fingers on its mighty arms…

Socothbenoth slithered into Raven's room quietly. He admired her décor for a moment, before he saw the young mage resting gently in her bed. Even asleep, she was still beautiful enough to Socothbenoth to draw his attention for a night. He sauntered closer to her bed. Eyes closed, he pressed his face closer to hers. His long brown hair fell on to her pillow so that her visage was lost behind it. And at last, flickering his serpentine tongue, he pressed his lips on to hers, kissing her gently and passionately in her sleep. She didn't wake, didn't move, and showed no sign of this kiss. But she dreamed. She dreamed that she was alone in darkness. Standing there, quiet and lonely. Socothbenoth walked out of the shadows and stood _so_ close in front of her. They stared longedly at each other before they embraced, feeling each other's lips press tightly against each other. Raven felt the fiber of her clothes disappear at his touch. And what happened next, was a matter of privacy.

Of course it was only a dream, and Raven only indicated it by smiling and rolling onto her side in the real world. Socothbenoth himself grinned and began to walk away. Then, he felt something grasp his long hair. Oh, he hoped this would happen. But then, the grip yanked hard, and pulled Socothbenoth off the ground. It turned him around, and it took every fiber in his being for Soc not to scream. For standing there was Graz'zt, his emerald eyes gleaming with hatred. Graz'zt smiled a devious smile at the lesser demon, and Raven did not hear the cries. In the Abyss, the real Socothbenoth howled in agony, while the real Graz'zt felt blood run down his six-fingered hands.

Raven would awake in the morning feeling like a goddess. She would have no memory of her wonderful dream, and would not be curious as to why a miniature version of Doomshadow piercing a piece of paper bearing only a picture of six-fingered black hand was on her shelf. And she would only smile and sip her green tea as the other Titans panicked over the pile of furniture that was defying physics in the middle of the kitchen. And for the first time ever, she would greet the day as a blessing instead of a curse.


	10. Chapter 10: And What Happened Then

"_It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was."_

Anne Sexton (1928-1974

"_If you cannot get rid of the family skeleton, you may as well make it dance."_

George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950)

Finding out that Trigon wasn't her father made it all the worse when Raven found out that, dad or not, Trigon was still coming. And suddenly all the weight of pressure and fear she had dropped the night she found out Graz'zt was her father came back ten-fold. Fighting, fighting past Slade and even her own mother, Raven desperately sought some way to make her new lineage work for her. It was to no avail however. Try as she might, Slade was right. Trigon was coming, and nothing could stop him.

As such, Raven devoted all of her energy to finding someway to avert the coming of Trigon. Of course that she visited her mother is common knowledge. But that came after a lot of studying. She did most of her research in Kresk's library, as her own spell books were inadequate. She learned the argot of demons quickly, Astaroth's guide to Abyssal being invaluable. After all, there is nothing like fear to cause a speedy education. Through innumerable, prolix grimoires, Raven poured over pages of spells and lore, to no avail. She discovered all manner of extraordinary information in Kresk's library; seaweed of the River Styx, daemon, demon, and devil lords from all manner of planes, infernal fashion, and other, less demonic things, namely Kresk's large collection of Gilbert and Sullivan paraphernalia, as well as his numerous cook books.

Kresk was a rather eccentric individual by anyone's book. Ironically, doing all her research and not speaking to the Fire Demon was how she got to know him better. In the broad scheme of things, if Graz'zt was Raven's father, Kresk was like her crazy uncle who was an intermediary between her and her father's world. As such, Kresk had no issue with Raven spending so much time around his library and house. Even the staff was beginning to recognize her. The nalfeshnee (boar-demon) Bormulk greeted her casually as 'Rae' every time she entered the house, the succubae pestered her like she was their little cousin, and Janys… well Janys stayed Janys (talking slimes don't have much personality). She found that he was a massive fan of opera, as well as cooking.

In fact, Kresk's house wasn't just the Fire Demon's extra planar abode; it was also a sort of inn. Kresk rented out rooms to traveling demons, and also acted as a sort of traveling agent, sending them to a certain arch-demon or another. As such, sometimes patrons would stay overnight. These are when Kresk would disappear into the kitchen for hours only to come back with infernal gourmet. Anaconda stuffed with glass eel, dretch-brain soup, Hades grubs wrapped in black hog bacon, and other less pleasant things came to the table. Raven inadvertently ate some of the chow once. Studying hard, she hadn't eaten all day. Kresk, in a gesture of kindness, left her a platter of Styx calamari. Without actually realizing it, Raven stuffed a curled, tightly wrapped tentacle into her mouth. She actually had to chew it to realize that something was wrong (Kresk's culinary secret, cooking it with water from the Plane of Tears and green onions, disguised the flavor). Looking down at the now cooked cephalopod, Raven was disgusted. However, this didn't stop her from finishing the dish.

Kresk's obsession with opera was less obvious. But Kresk loved opera, without a shadow of a doubt. He had a particular fondness for English operas, especially, _especially_ Gilbert and Sullivan and Sondheim. Whenever the Fire Demon was in a particularly good mood, he would sing. It was disturbing to Raven to listen to Kresk wail out those banshee notes. It was even more disturbing to listen to him sing in Abyssal, which sounded like two cats fighting. But, Raven did have to admire Kris's love for the music, even if he sang it…badly.

But those were not all of the Fire Demon's odd habits and ways. Every now and then he ran an old, silver coin in his hands, jangling it, running it across his knuckles, and otherwise coveting it. He would never let anyone else touch it, so it was hard to determine what the coin really was. When Raven asked Kresk about it, he told her, "It's one of the thirty pieces of silver Judas sold Christ out for. Yes, all the other twenty-nine pieces were melted down, but I saved this one! It's my lucky charm, my baby. I had to go through all of Hades, Gehenna, and Hell to get it, but it was worth every scar, drop of lost blood, and devilish memory. Oh, do you feel the pulse? Betrayal incarnate poured into this coin, this one scrap of metal. Oh, there hasn't been an evil like this since John met Yoko."

Of course, there were times when Kresk wasn't there. Sometimes he would just go, simple as that. Other times, well other times were a bit more extravagant, the peak being when he rode out on a giant black goat that was carrying a record player playing "Ride of the Valkyries" by Vagner, holy water, numerous weapons and ammo, and other supplies. Kresk was screaming something about he was finally going to have his revenge on the Rolling Stones for one reason or another, and that he had been waiting a long time for this. He rode out, Vagner playing full blast, and wasn't seen for three days and two nights. On the evening of the third day, he was found collapsed at the front door, his robes ripped, the rest of him mangled, broken, and bleeding. The only thing he uttered out before he fainted was, "Keith…Richards…just…wouldn't…die." Of course almost, but not quite, as infamous was when Kresk ran into the house screaming that the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and PBS were after him. At first, nobody believed him. But that night, Titan's Tower received an anonymous call telling them that if they surrendered now, they would receive a special edition Nova tote bag and a selection of Salt Lake City's best. And then, of course there was Kresk's obsessive fear of nuns, rabbis, priests, and other religious figures…

Of course, none of this could sway Raven from her search for information. Page after page turned into book after book that turned into shelf after shelf of study. And among the most fascinating and disturbing morsels of information Raven found was information about her father, Graz'zt. It may strike some that Raven never mentioned Graz'zt to many, still asserting that her father was Trigon, and that is for one simple reason. Compared to Graz'zt, Trigon was a little church-choir boy singing out soft 'alleluias' compared to an angry, vengeful Old Testament God shouting, nay, roaring the plagues at Egypt. The sheer malevolence and power of Graz'zt obviated Trigon's pathetic conquests and brio of flame and gloom.

Trigon conquered worlds. On an average he enslaved the general populace and left the corrupt in charge. But in the end, that was all. Most of the time Trigon didn't even go this far. He came, he saw with his four eyes, he conquered and all the masses had to do was cough up a few resources and admit that he was their leader. Then Trigon would leave, even letting the old leaders keep their positions. Of course nobody cared about these planets, because they weren't all that bad, actually improving under Trigon's rule in some cases. Everybody heard about the worst-case scenarios, the worlds that were reduced to ash and kept under an iron fist. But of course, these were worst-case scenarios. That entire 'the age of mortals is at an end' thing? That was just the big guy letting off some steam. You would be to if you were trapped in your daughter's mind for sixteen years.

But not Graz'zt, not the Prince of Shadows. No, Graz'zt destroyed worlds just for the hell of it. If someone gave Graz'zt a wrong look, they, and their family, and their world, wouldn't exist after a while. Graz'zt bore no similitude to Trigon. Trigon wanted, needed his Material Plane empire. Graz'zt knew that it didn't matter if one pathetic world died, because one day, he would rule _all_ the multiverse, Material Plane and all. When Graz'zt had a bad day, it became several major religions versions of Hell, as the Father of Lamias tore through cities and planets in an unbound rage until nothing was left standing save for him and his legions of demons. Graz'zt did not stop at simple murders and petty genocides; Graz'zt went far enough to track souls down and destroy them, wiping them out entirely and denying any hope of rest or salvation for his enemies that walked the mortal realm. When Graz'zt came to power on a Material Plane world, it wasn't just the state of the government that was corrupt. It was everything. Worlds fell into darkness and evil at his caress, nations toppled, empires rotted and were destroyed, falling so far from any semblance of good or even neutrality that the people wondered if there had ever been a light there. Moons fell, shadows grew deeper, black clouds descended and eventually the planet itself would tear itself apart in savage anarchy. And it almost seemed the whole of all worlds worshipped him; however he was only the third most worshipped Demiurge in existence, Orcus, Demiurge of Undead, and Lolth, Demiurge of Spiders, Magic and Dark Elves were slightly more revered. Nothing written or said would ever do justice to the majestic Lord of the Triple Realm.

And this was how Raven became acquainted with her brothers and sisters. Her research showed that the Ebon Lord's promiscuity was as legendary as Kresk presented it. All across the multiverse, millions upon millions of half-demons had Graz'zt to thank for their existence. And Raven began to know just a few of her astronomical family in her readings. There was Rhyxali, Princess of the Shadow Demons and Graz'zt's sister. Lupercio and Vucarik of Chains, powerful Demon Princes in their own right, were his half-brothers. And of course there were was the titanic progeny that was Raven's siblings, nephews and nieces. Iuz the Old, a demigod of evil was Graz'zt's son by the witch-queen Iggwilv. Vaprak, wrathful god of ogres, trolls, and oni was Raven's half-brother by a goddess that Graz'zt seduced. Graz'zt's dark elf son Athux led his demonic armies, and his daughter, and Raven's half-sibling Thraxia was the Ebon Lord's private assassin. This was not even counting the massive amounts of plane-touched, tieflings, fey'ri, and other demon descended races that counted Graz'zt as their ancestor. Mortals from all paths of the worlds called Graz'zt their patriarch. Emperors, kings, beggars, thieves, nobles, peasants, murderers, rapists, monks, bards, lunatics, philosophers; all these and more claimed that the Imperator of Tenebrosity's blood flowed through their veins. And there were any number of monsters that claimed Graz'zt as their progenitor; lamias, harpies, the dark, Adam-like vasharans, black unicorns, and countless species of demons tailor-made by the Khan of Shade.

And where did young Raven reap this erudition? Why from none other than Graz'zt's own personal autobiography. All seven of them, and Kresk said this was merely a small section; according to the Fire Demon, there was an entire wing in Graz'zt's private library devoted to biographies. The Adjudicator of Dusk had no qualms with sharing his personal life with the outside world. Graz'zt was vain to an unbelievable extreme. He would pluck the feathers off a peacock just to gain an extra bit of attention. It became a small hobby of Raven's to read through all of these, as her father's life-stories never ceased to amuse her. From his accounts, there was nothing Graz'zt didn't do; he rode the wind with witches, summoned the Plane of Shadows to the Abyss like it was a lesser demon, fought against even greater Demiurge such as Demogorgon and Orcus, constructed shady eidolons with a thought, and plucked the fruit of divinity out of all paradises in the multiverse so no one race could know perfection. Some of his auto-biographies had tact titles, such as Come Hither to Darkness which came off more as a manifesto, but the unconditionally enjoyable ones were particularly bawdy, especially the Sigilian best-seller, Sex, Drugs, and Demon Lords: An Auto-Biography of Graz'zt. The title practically sold itself. In this book alone, the Demiurge supposedly seduced Hera, battled an army of 10,000 angels, demons, and devils, and then plunged two or three worlds into darkness. And that was just the first three chapters.

Two themes that kept coming up in Graz'zt's books was the mention of two subjects, Pale Night and the Throne of Darkness. Both were variously described as persons, places, times, concepts, and objects. When Raven asked about Pale Night, Kresk (who was in the kitchen organizing glass jars filled with odd liquids, his back to Raven) chuckled and simply said, "She's a Demiurge, an old one at that. She and Graz'zt have some connection, but I couldn't tell you much more. Keeps to her self a lot, ya' know? She supposed to be a little bit younger than Dagon and Demogorgon, but just a little bit."

"And what's the 'Throne of Darkness'?" Raven innocently inquired. At that moment Kresk tightened up, arching his shoulders, lowering his head, folding his arms like a mantis, practically going into a seizure of nervous responses, and dropping jars everywhere. He yelled and screamed, but he wasn't angry. No, far worse, was that Kresk was scared, horrified at the mere mention of whatever the 'Throne of Darkness' was. "It's nothing! It's no one! It's nowhere! Stop asking! I don't know!"

"If it's nothing, why are you yelling?"

"I don't know! Is that the kettle boiling? I have to leave now, must be attending the forum and such!" he yelled, politely shoving Raven out of the kitchen.

"I thought you said tea was boiling?" Raven responded. She was met only with a panicked yelp. Later that night, passing by Kresk's room to see if he was alright, she thought she heard the faint sound of the 'Dies Irae' by Mozart being played above the sounds of compulsive sobbing. But even this singular incident did not dissuade Raven from her work. And of course, it did not dissuade Trigon from coming. But of course, this leaves the question of where Kresk was during the 'apocalypse', as well as the other Demon Lords. For Kresk, it began with a simple gut feeling…

* * *

_Sometime shortly after the unleashing of Trigon…_

Something was up. Kresk could smell it, could feel it in his oversized gut, and could hear it in crackling flames with whispering shadows. The balance had shifted out of sway, like when Tera had come, but it was different. When Tera came the change was elemental, but this, this change was _fundamental_. The Fire Demon was standing in the common room. Janys lay limply in her bowl, and Bormulk only worked at his desk. Some clients had passed by, most notably a young fallen aasimar (grandchild, at least, of an angel and a human). The succubae sat at a table near her and cast flirtatious, giggles, smiles, and stares at her. The aasimar, only recently strayed from the path of some random god of light and in the current employment of Chask, a Demon Lord of scythes, had passed through on a mission from her lord. The succubus's come-hither smiles and stares only made her more nervous, which of course egged the two succubae on. What truly disturbed the aasimar was the fact that every now and then she smiled back with her white teeth and an amorous gleam in her platinum eyes. After a while, the two succubae sauntered over to the aasimar and sat close to her, an enticing grin on their lips. They asked her the usual flirtatious questions, each party tittering and playing the other.

Kresk wasn't paying attention to the scene of viral youth. He was occupied with what was going on outside. To him, it was like hearing a raging thunderstorm outside but not seeing the rain or hearing any thunder, just feeling it. His train of thought was broken by the loud peal from the nearby table. He barked out "Quiet! The lot of you!" The three young women looked up, staring at the disquieted Kresk. "Listen, do you hear that?" Kresk asked. "No." Each girl responded in unison. They would have laughed, but the heckles on Kresk's back were up. He walked into the antechamber with Bormulk sitting at the podium. In the back he could hear the party ask their coy questions to each other. Kresk stared up at the old nalfeshnee, one of his tusks broken in the middle, a gold ring through is boar-like snout, the feathers on his wings fading gray. "Anything weird come in, old friend?" Kresk wringed. Bormulk only let out a negative, lazy snort. "Something's not right. I'm headin' out. You and Janys hold the fort down for me." Kresk voiced.

"Alright." The boar demon only wheezed out. The Fire Demon walked towards the door. Normally, an arcane thought from Kresk transformed the archway into a portal; visible only by the time Kresk was actually at the threshold. But instead, Kresk only walked straight into the wall. He looked at the wall, and walked again, only to be rebutted again. "Hey Bormulk, what do you make of this?" Kresk inquested. The boar demon moved towards the door, walking on his knuckles. He rapped against the blank wall, sniffed it with his porcine nose, and even pressed his ear against it. He tried using a spell on it, twitching his fat fingers multiple times. When that failed, he tried punching it, to no avail. And finally, Bormulk tried ramming his shoulder against it. Tired, he stood and panted before he felt Kresk pat his arm and simply say, "That'll do, pig-demon. That'll do."

"It's something with this portal. Something's blocking it or haltin' the magic or something weird like that. You better use one of the others."

"Right. I'll try the one in the space needle. You get some rest." Kresk marched out of the antechamber, into the main room, and down a side-hall that contained a series of doorways and rooms. Passing one room with a red, furnished door bearing an Italian style, he heard the raunchy giggling of two succubae and a certain aasimar. Kresk only muttered to himself, "Youth is wasted on the young." Before he found the door he was looking for. It was a steel-blue door, and looked like nothing more than the entry to a human janitorial closet. He burst through it and stood on the roof of the desiccated space needle where Raven and Slade had stood earlier. He had made the portal because, for some odd reason, idiotic people, namely teenagers, found the need to go up to the top of the needle. Maybe it was for sex, maybe for suicide, or Kresk's personal favorite, some kind of séance, but either way, Kresk loved to appear out of nowhere and scare the living crap out of them. Particularly the séance ones. They'd always finish chanting or burning something, then Kresk would manifest, usually just his leering head, spewing flares from his mouth and nostrils, and after enflaming his horns. Of course the problem with this was that the traumatized ritual-goers would usually seek comfort in religion, but Kresk viewed this as a 'spend money to make money' situation.

But not this time, not this day. No, this time, Kresk emerged on a scene that had danced across his most delightful fantasies, save for a few details and characters. The sky was red and filled with black clouds. Buildings and towers lay in skeletal ruins while petrified mortals were eternally frozen in screams of terror. Ash, dust, and rubble covered the landscape, while the few living survivors scurried about like two-legged rats among the heinous scene. The ocean and all water had been changed to molten lava. Four eyed ravens flew about with their jagged beaks stiff cries. Kresk would have gone with imps, or bats, small dragons if he could get them, but ravens worked well too. But why four eyes. And then Kresk saw Trigon sitting on his makeshift throne. Kresk almost yelped out at the sight of the colossal demon. And then everything hit Kresk. "Well, I'll be damned. Sugar me up and call me Georgia if this ain't just peachy. The kid was right. That must be 'Trojan' or whatever the Hells his name is." Kresk gasped out. "Not half bad. She did okay for a half-demon."

A bolt of purple, green, and orange shot by followed by a streak of gray and red. Kresk yelled out, but Starfire didn't notice him, pursued by her clone. All she saw was another blur of red and orange, and assumed it was one of Trigon's servants. Kresk turned invisible before he watched the two Starfires fight in midair. "Huh, a shadow simulacrum." He said to himself. He listened to the snide threats from the clone. "You are weak! You have always been weak! You do not deserve Robin! Robin will be mine!" the doppelganger screamed out. "Ooh, alignment simulacrums at that!" Kresk gleefully murmured to himself. "Those might come in handy." Kresk took four tubes from his pockets. "Now where's Boy Blunder and Half a Man?" he inquired silently. The two Starfires flew by him again. "Well, no sense in wasting opportunity." He announced. Kresk lifted a tube above his head and followed the dark Starfire with it. There was a sound of vacuum, and a red light appeared inside one of the tubes. Kresk flipped it, kissed it, and said, "Do well by me sweetheart. Do well." Then the Fire Demon went about gathering the rest of the Titan's simulacrum's essences. Cyborg's wasn't too hard (Kresk only muttered out "Typical construct paranoia. 'Who am I?' this, 'What am I?' that. Nah, nah, nah…"), but Beast Boy's was a little harder. A vocal component was needed, and nothing could be gathered from the howls, roars, and screams. Kresk spent twenty minutes shouting, "Come on, Stupid! Give me something to work with! Words, Stupid! Use words!"

Kresk gathered that Robin and Raven were absent, but he couldn't help but wonder _why_. Robin was easy for Kresk; as the stereotypical, rash leader of heroes, he had to go save Raven. But Kresk was still perplexed about Raven. And then, all the pieces came together in Kresk's mind. Trigon was old. Old enough that he needed an heir for his empire, but too old to sire one. And so, when a young woman with a newborn Raven came to the monastery of his archenemies, the monks of Azarath, it was the perfect opportunity. Raven would grow up until she could release Trigon from his prison. Then, then Trigon would be able to revert Raven to a child, and from there, raise her as his own, shape her and mold her to be an heir. As of now, Kresk realized, Raven was like wet clay. If he could get to her first, before Trigon or Robin, then _he_, Kresk, could do the same thing. He could raise Raven in this new hellhole world to be his first disciple, his first worshipper and zealot in nearly a hundred years. And all it takes is one zealot to start the fires of worship. He could begin his ascension to true Demon Princedom. Kresk clacked his fingers together and looked around with a suspicious gaze to make sure no one else was on to his plan. And then, Kresk ran as fast as his cloven hooves could take him. It never occurred to him to teleport, or summon a mount. There was no time for thinking like that; for even now, Kresk was sure, and other cosmic entities were rushing to reach the young mage. Maybe they were angels trying to save her, or demons and devils looking for another powerful worshipper, but either way, they all wanted her. And of course, Kresk was totally and absolutely right.

And so, Kresk never noticed the rubble in front of him until he had tripped over it. He felt something crack in his pockets and realized the tubes filled with Titan paranoia had burst. Kresk felt a strange sensation dance around him as he got to his feet. A form of red energy appeared in front of him. And lo and behold, it was a shadow version of Kresk, all gray save for his red eyes. The original Kresk panicked, fearing that this version would be a complete paragon of order and good as opposed to the original. The clone looked at Kresk, Kresk looked back, and both said, at the exact same moment, "What in the Hells are you looking at?" This would lead to an argument, a battle, and then a friendship between the two that would culminate in singing Gilbert and Sullivan and then setting things on fire just to watch them burn. When the 'apocalypse' was undone (Kresk had forgotten all about Raven in the fun), he mourned the death of himself. And so, Kresk performed his own funeral, hosted by himself. Needless to say, it went on for three days as the Fire Demon glorified himself to no end.

And so things returned to normal for Raven and Kresk, but only for a little while. For then August came, and with it were nightmares, monsters, a realization of mortality, and an old photo that would forever alter the fate of all the multiverse in one way or another.


	11. Chapter 11: The Arcanists Revealed

_It shines there like a beacon_

_Amidst the steel and chrome_

_A slender thread it beams ahead_

_And points the way back home_

-John McCuthcheon, 'Who'll Rock the Cradle?'

Raven was quietly meditating in her room when she heard panicked screaming coming from outside in the hall. She rushed towards the door and tried to go through the wall with her powers, but instead she hit the door with a thud. The terrified hollers continued. Raven's powers had fled into nothingness. She ventured to open the door manually, but to no avail. The portal simply wouldn't budge. The harder Raven tried, the louder the screams grew. She tried and tried for what seemed like forever to her. And then, the screaming stopped, falling mute in the hall. But there was one sound, the sickening sound of dripping. Once more, Raven strived to open her door. And she was horrified when she succeeded.

All along the walls, blood was splattered, dripping from the ceiling and forming puddles on the floor. Raven stepped out, listening to her feet touch and splatter the puddles of gore. Her shoes and legs felt cold as the warm blood washed across them and began to dry. Raven felt herself nearly trip over something on the floor. She nearly vomited at the sight of a fresh, bloody arm. She couldn't tell who's it was, but it was humanoid to an extent. The red bleached out any hint of color. Raven entered the living room. Blood still varnished the walls, but a section of the window was broken. Gore covered all the rest of the massive glass construction, blocking out the sun, save for a few beams or sick, red luminescence. But white light streamed through a massive gap in the middle. The jagged edges only added to the effect as a solitary figure stood in the middle of broken section. The black shape stared out to the invisible inside, majestic in the shimmering blank glow. And slowly, it turned around, little by little. Two yellow eyes leered from the rest of the unseen face, and before it was done moving, the Demon's voice reverberated in Raven's head, "Wake up."

Raven woke up in her bed. Everything was too dark to see, almost pitch black really. But Raven felt her head resting on something. She reached up to what she thought was a pillow and felt something warm and alive, something smooth and scaly. Raven realized that she was touching the Demon's leg, and that Everything She Should Have Been was cradling her head in her lap. She felt the Demon run her clawed hand across her forehead, stroking it gently. The Demon was humming a little lullaby to Raven. The Demon bent down and kissed Raven's brow. She opened her glowing yellow eyes, and looked into Raven's with them. Her face still close but invisible, she whispered to Raven, "Go back to sleep, sweetheart. It was only a nightmare. They'll be dead by morning."

For the second time, Raven woke up in her bed. She felt her pillow, and was relieved to feel only the fluffy cushion. She got out of bed and went to the hall, taking the time to open the door by hand. No blood, no screams, no arms. She closed the door to her room again. Raven was unsure that she was awake, however, when she tried to manifest magic. She strained and concentrated, but was only able to produce a tiny ball of black fire in her hand, which only lasted a few seconds before going out. Just to make sure that she wasn't still dreaming, Raven checked for the usual dreamscape markers. (She had found a book in Kresk's library; Don't Follow the White Rabbit: How to Identify Dreamscapes and Get Out Intact.) There appeared to be no mentioning, signs, or visible presence of a white rabbit in any shape or form. Raven looked at the clock. 7:09 A.M., a regular number as opposed to something unusual, such as 25:99 Q.M. Raven opened here Titans signaler. The numbers stayed stationary and were all single digits. Raven opened a book and read the sentences perfectly as the letters and lines stayed absolutely still. For a moment, she was concerned when she read about singular, enigmatic figures, like the King in Yellow who lay beyond the Void in the Castle. That was until Raven realized that she was reading Lovecraft. All in all, her theory checked out; this was reality, plain and simple.

This was the third night in a row Raven had weathered nightmares, and it was starting to show. She was snappier than usual, and it was getting harder and harder to cast spells. And it happened every time she slept. A nap, a doze, a daydream; all inevitably terminated into a nightmare of some kind or another. And it wasn't just her; it was the other Titans to. Everybody but Cyborg (as a construct, he didn't dream; he just shut down) was starting to lose pep. Raven at first thought it was Kresk, but this didn't seem like him. Kresk preferred fast results as opposed to simply leech the life out of his victims, and if he wanted to scare somebody, he did it directly. But just to be sure, Raven resolved to talk to the Fire Demon. At the very least he might have a cure for these horrible reveries.

When Raven got to Kresk's home, she walked into find Bormulk shivering. At first she thought that the pig-demon was cold, but on second thought that made as much sense as a china plate in a bullpen. She could see that his eyes were wide open and that he wasn't blinking. The nalfeshnee was drinking from an onyx bowl decorated with leering faces of medusae and minotaurs. He didn't greet Raven until she was almost directly next to him before he yelped out, mindlessly fast, "Hey Rae! Can't talk! Leprechauns coming to kill me!" He say there silently before Raven delicately asked, "Yeah, hey. Just what are you drinking."

"No idea! Got some random roots and herbs to stay awake! I think it draws leprechauns though! Don't you see the leprechauns? They're everywhere! They want me dead! They're just waiting for me to drop my guard! Especially that one in the corner, the one with the lucky charms! He's already killed three little ones!"

"Bor, there's no one in here but us."

"That's just what they want you to think!"

"Alright then." Raven backed away very slowly towards the main hall. As she was leaving, Bormulk let out another yelp. The succubae were sitting at a table. Oddly, they weren't chattering or gossiping amongst themselves. They looked tired, and not their usual _**ahem**_ tired, but honestly sleep-deprived. Bags were under their eyes, their hair was disheveled, their wings were weary, and it looked like it was taking all their energy to keep their eyelids from snapping shut like a bear trap. Walking into Janys' room, the slime seemed unaffected, but then again, she always seemed tired and bitter. Almost entering Kresk's room, Raven heard voices coming from inside, both speaking Abyssal. One was distinctly Kresk's, but another was deeper and jowly. Raven knocked on Kresk's door, noticing its implemented, black ironwood decorated with simple faces and designs. She heard Kresk's muffled voice yell, "Yeah, come in."

Raven stepped in to see Kresk sitting at his desk with a hideous guest. Sitting across from Kresk was a monster to any man. It was roughly the size of Bormulk, that is to say the size of an average giant, a little shorter actually. The entirety of its body, save for a few white splotches, was a dark, chocolate brown. Atop its torso was a canine head armed with straight horns, looking like a Great Dane with its ears perked up and it's yellow eyes glowing. Its humanoid torso bore four strange arms. Two seemed to come directly out of its chest, but they were tiny, with delicate fingers. Its main arms were two massive pincers, echoing those of a crab or a scorpion. Two chitinous plates on its shoulders gave the impression of shoulder pads. Its legs, like most fiends, ended in two cloven hooves, if not weathered and tried ones.

"Hey kiddo. It's good to see you. We still on for tonight?"

"Uh, sure. I've got the quija board." Raven stuttered, curious as to the huge creature across from Kresk.

"Excellent! Oh, I'd like you to meet one of the staff, Ch'tar. He's one of the older members, along with Bormulk and Janys. He's a glabrezu, tempter demons like the succubae, but where they tempt with sex, he tempts with power. He does a lot of work for me outside here, you could call him my field man, if you will." The glabrezu said something to Kresk in Abyssal. Normally, Raven could understand Abyssal, but this version was so jowly, so ancient, that it was hard to make anything of it beyond a few token words. "What did he say?" Raven asked. The dog-demon laughed a bit at this. Kresk said to Raven, "Don't worry about it, kiddo. After you listen to him enough he'll make sense. Now what ails ya'?"

"Nightmares. Just out of curiosity, what's up with everybody around here? They seem kind of jittery."

"They've got a rash of nightmares as well."

"I thought demons didn't sleep."

"No, no. We don't _need_ to sleep, just like we don't need to eat, drink, breathe, or reproduce. But we do it anyway, just for the sensual appeal. The succubae can attest to the joy of sex, I can't breathe fire if I don't breathe at all, and Bormulk likes nothing less than to stuff himself fat. The same way, we sleep. It leaves us refreshed in the morning, and dreams are always fun. Of course if we get a bad night, we have to pay for it. These nightmares are starting to get to us, kiddo. We've stopped sleeping, but we're going through some serious withdrawal issues. It'll be at least a week before we really adapt, and until then we're all gonna' feel like crap. That's why I brought Ch'tar in, so he could whip us into the shape. When was the last time you slept again, howler?"

Ch'tar let out some kind of response from the depths of his fleshy mouth. Kresk chuckled a bit before saying, "Yeah, Charles Manson knew how to have a good time. Crazy nut job. Crazy, crazy, nut job."

"I don't suppose you would have anything to stop the nightmares for me, would you?"

"For you, yes. For your idiot friends, no."

"Kresk…" Raven sighed out, giving the old demon a disapproving stare. "Look, kid, I'd help if I could, but I can't. As I recall, it's _your_ rule that I don't screw around with them."

"But you do that all the time."

"Yes, but I make it a point not to do it when you're around. Besides, even if I did help, the nightmares would just keep coming until the source is dead."

"And just what is the source?"

"A Nightmare Beast. Huge monsters covered in black scales that cause nightmares whenever they're present in an area."

"What's one doing here?"

"I won it in a bet. I was going to sell it, so I kept in the cellar. Damn thing must have gotten out its cage."

"Why don't you just get rid of it?"

"Because, I'm investing money in it. And it's a pain in the ass to kill. You see this isn't your average Nightmare Beast. This one was crossbred with a special breed of magic-eating dragon. It devours any kind of energy in a person. Arcane, divine, psionic, whatever. I'm strong, but not strong enough if I have no magic. I'd need a better reason to kill it than that it's giving some of your twerp buddies a couple of bad dreams. I just pray to gods that it doesn't –" At that moment, the lights went out. Kresk's house wasn't lit by oil; it was lit by fire generated by the demons, namely Kresk. "Crap." Kresk flatly murmured out. Raven noted that she could still see Kresk's glowing orange eyes, as well as Ch'tar's. Raven heard a clicking, before Kresk, a hint of annoyed fear in voice said, "Kid, try some of your magic." Raven concentrated, focusing and focusing, but all that she was able to produce was another headache. "Nothing?" the Fire Demon asked. For some reason, Raven shook her head instead of verbally responding. She found that she could almost see Kresk and Ch'tar in the darkness. "Oh, son of a… It did an energy pull. It did a freakin' energy pull. Old Night help me…"

"What happened?" Raven asked. "The thing got hungry. Instead of waiting for more victims, it pulled all the magic out of the area. Just… Damn. That's just peachy. All right, kid. You got lucky. You get to help me and Ch'tar kill the thing." Ch'tar let out an inquisitive whimper. "Yes, you. You're closer to the cellar than Bormulk. And he's older. So it has to be you." The Fire Demon chided. Ch'tar let out a defeated whine. "Good. Now let me grab a few things and we'll be on our ways." Kresk walked to a corner of the room, and bent down over a box. He opened it, the box letting out a distinct creak from lack of attention. After some more shuffling, Kresk stood up, a lit, oil lantern in hand. The yellow light danced across his face, contorting shadows across the crevasses and canyons that were scars and wrinkles. "Here, light for the ones who can't see." He said to Raven. She politely said, "Kresk, thanks, but I don't need it. It's weird, but I can see in the dark."

"Of course you can. You're a half-demon. But it's a pain to light an oil lamp, so by gods you're gonna' hold the damn thing. Besides, the light repels some 'less savory' residents of the cellars. Now you two wait here, I have to grab some things." Kresk left Ch'tar and Raven in his office. Looking around, Raven, as if looking at the musty old study for the first time, truly understood how disturbing the place was. The yellow light expanded her and Ch'tar's shadows, throwing them against the walls so that they towered above them like two ephemeral trolls. The books on Kresk's shelf seemed to form a massive face and leer at her. The demons in the portrait on the other wall glared at her, particularly the damned, larval souls that crawled at the greater demons feet. Casting the lamp light over the shields, swords, and armor of the opposing wall, the yellow light reflected back in wickedly pointed spears. And then Raven noticed something sticking out the chest Kresk had pulled the lantern from. It was a medal, a pendant of some kind. A bronze pentagram was stuck in a circle, words written around it. But they weren't in Abyssal, instead scribed in some other planar tongue that looked vaguely familiar to Raven. It was written totally in perfectly horizontal and vertical lines. In the middle of the star was a single piece of jet, almost insignificant for its size, but perfectly round, exquisite beyond a shadow of a doubt. Raven was hypnotized until she heard Kresk approach from the hallway.

"Alright, let's go. I want this thing dead and fast." Raven turned around in time to see Kresk walk in, armed to the teeth. In his hands he held two Remington 700 SPS rifles. He had tied a belt of pockets around him, the containers bulging with ammo. And to complete the look, he was smoking one of his character Acheron cigars, its glowing tip complementing his orange eyes. He let out a puff of smoke; obscuring his face behind the smog, save for flecks of light where his eyes shone through. He marched forward, jangling with extra ammunition and gods know what else. Raven couldn't help but ask, "What's with the guns?" Kresk smiled and said, "Child of mine, two stupid men once said two stupid things. One said America didn't need booze. Another said I didn't need guns. One of those men was wrong. The other was _dead_ wrong. Fireballs, wands, all that other magic crap, it's fun. But they're nowhere near as satisfying as a gun. Of all the many disappointments humans have given me over five and a half centuries, the perfection of the gun made up for it. Now if you'll pardon me, it's time to take Matilda and Gabriel here for some dancing. Ch'tar, remove the rug." Ch'tar bent down, and rolled up the carpet in Kresk's office. It blended so seamlessly with the plush red carpet around it that Raven had hardly noticed it. Underneath the intricately hidden rug was a large trap door, either wood or stone of some kind. A single, ordinary knocker adorned with a large ring produced the means to open the door. Ch'tar pulled on the ring with his massive claws, opening the door before slamming the portal on its hinges. It landed with a stupendous thud that shook several books from the shelf. Kresk snarled, "Damn it, Ch'tar! Be careful! You want the whole multiverse knowing we're here?" Ch'tar barked something out. Kresk scowled and said, "Just get down there. We'll cross each bridge as we come to it." Looking into the pit, Raven saw a set of stone steps lead deep into a corridor made of the same, dark gray rock. She moved when Ch'tar approached and, bending down to accommodate his monstrous girth, descended into the hall.

Kresk descended next, followed by Raven. There was no light in the dark corridors, aside from whatever was cast by the insufficient lantern. "It's probably near the enhancers." Kresk said. "What are the enhancers?" Raven queried. "You'll notice that my home is powered by magic, but that doesn't mean it's all done at once. Normally, I go to the enhancers, which might call magical magnifiers, or boilers of sorts. I throw in a little magic, it becomes a lot of magic that goes throughout the house, and we're in business. The damn thing must have gone for them first. Stay close. I haven't been down here in a while. Gods know what lives here now." The Fire Demon warned. As Kresk said this, Raven noticed a glowing silverfish the size of her hand scuttle into a crack in the wall.

The trio marched through the chaotic, twisting halls. The halls came in all varieties; tall, short, wide, thin. Shelves lined some of the walls, and they took the haunting resemblance of miniature walkways when they appeared to lead into crevasses where barely perceived deviances scuttled in the blackness. Here there were sacks and barrels, there nameless chests that called out with the hidden promise of some forgotten paraphernalia of yester-year. Winding and twisting, Raven half-expected the Minotaur to emerge from behind the next corner. She almost screamed when, passing by a dead end hall on her right, an obsidian statue of a minotaur stood, holding a stone axe, its head poised to gore.

Raven saw something unusual in the stones of the cellar, the one constant feature of the basement. They were all old, incredibly old compared to the fresh artwork, wood, and metal upstairs in the warm comfort of the house of Kresk. Raven broke the ominous silence by asking Kresk about it, "Kresk, why's the rock older here?"

"Kiddo, I bought my house from some random trader in Sigil. When I got in here, it was just my room and this cellar. Everything else was built around it with a lot of advanced, irreversible magic and metaphysical construction. Trust me it took years. When I say 'gods know what lives down here', I mean it." Kresk finished his sentence to the disquieting scuttling of something along one of the shelves lining the walls. Raven swore that she saw a flash of black fur and glowing eyes. But she assumed it was her imagination. But walking along, the scuttling came again. She turned around quickly, only to catch a flash of hair dive into an opening in the stone. A third time she heard the hideous scuttling, like rats in the walls, this time accompanied by whispers. Turning her head slowly, ever so slowly, she saw something on the shelf.

It was tiny, almost cute, if it weren't for the fact that nothing could be seen of it in its black camouflage and its yellow eyes. Raven turned around again. She whispered to Kresk, "Kresk, I think we're being followed."

"You noticed them to? They've been tracking us since that jar with a quasit head inside. I thought it was just me. Didn't say anything. Didn't want to alarm anyone."

"What are they? Rats?"

"Neeklas, neek for short."

"What are they?"

"I'm not gonna' say it. It'll sound stupid."

"Go on. It can't be any weirder than what I've already seen." Kresk took in a deep breath, than released it, before sighing, "They're demonic ninja squirrels." Raven stood there for a moment trying to process what Kresk had said. She disbelievingly said, "Demonic-"

"Ninja squirrels, yes." Raven stopped walking and stared at Kresk in the lamplight, arching a lavender eyebrow. "That just can't be. Demonic, I could understand, squirrel or ninja by itself I could even swallow, but all three? That's just isn't-"

"Look out!" Kresk yelled. He shoved Raven out of the way. Seven miniscule shuriken struck Kresk in the arm, accompanied by two throwing daggers of equally small size. Kresk screamed through gritted teeth. Standing on a platform, a small of party of neeks stood poised for the next attack. Raven could see their ebony fur splattered with sections of rust brown. Each one's upper torso and waist was covered with dark gray bandages, blending into the rock perfectly. Their faces, save for their pointed ears, were disguised in half masks, cloaking most of their little skulls. One bore silver armor that reminded Raven of Graz'zt's armor, covering his torso and upper thighs, but not his arms or lower legs. On the top of his head was a silver skullcap that almost looked like it was crafted from a thimble. The clan retreated into the crevasse. Ch'tar growled something at Kresk. He stuttered out, still in pain from the minute weapons, "Dear gods below, they're in the walls."

The seven neeks ran into a crevasse, the last one throwing a final shuriken at Kresk's head. The Fire Demon moved his head enough so that the miniscule weapon only hit one of his horns. "Com back here, you little bastards!" Kresk shouted at the crack. He shot blasted a shot from the rifle in his right hand at the crevasse. Surprisingly it went in, and even more surprisingly, it hit something. Raven heard the dying squeak of a neek inside. Kresk laughed, "Ha ha! Mother o' Malcanthet, I'm good!" The leader neekla, at least that was what Raven assumed he was due to his extra armor, ran back out, holding the corpse of the fallen neek. He stuck a wakizashi into the corpse, pulling the now blood-covered sword out slowly. Pointing the blade at Kresk, the neek let out a war cry (squeak) at the massive demon before retreating back into the walls. "So then, it is war between us." Kresk growled out, loading another bullet into the Remington. "Come on, let's move." Kresk ordered.

The trio moved through the hallways, Raven curious as to what the resolution would be between the Kresk and the demonic ninja squirrels. As if waiting for the answer, the trio emerged at a crossroads of sorts in the ancient cellar. Kresk and Ch'tar sniffed the air, looking for something. And just then, the arrows began. Yes, arrows. Dozens upon dozens of tiny arrows, each with a unique, jagged head. "Kid, get behind me!" Kresk hollered, the small cloud of injury approaching. Raven ran between Ch'tar and Kresk. Ch'tar blocked most of the arrows with his massive pincers, but a few hit Raven's exposed right leg. They were surprisingly painful. Raven hissed out in agony and felt the Demon stir in the back of her mind. She heard a monstrous howl and looked to see Kresk's arm and shoulder covered in the tiny arrows. Looking past Kresk's arm, Raven saw a swarm, an army of neekas running across the floor, turning the dark gray nearly black. These common footmen bore spears, lanterns, halberds, and ranseurs, one or two carrying a banner with some kind of chest on it. Some jumped across the walls like massive fleas, bearing katanas, wakizashis, and bagh nakhs. Several jumped on Kresk, forcing the demon to scream, "Get off of me, you damned vermin!" He ripped the closer ones with his claws, tearing into them with jagged talons. Ch'tar decimated them with his massive pincers, butting and clamping down on swarms at a time. His smaller hands tore them with his bare hands, pulling them apart like they were grapes on a vine. Kresk unleashed twin blasts with his rifles, blowing five or six per shot in bloody explosions (Raven wondered what kind of bullets caused small explosions on impact, but she didn't complain). But always there were more. Raven felt useless caught between the two larger demons, unable to move much, and incapable of casting spells. Slowly the trio was backed into the center.

At the axis of the crossroads, Raven was backed into the hallway across from the one the party was exiting. Ch'tar was left in the middle of the four lanes, and Kresk continued to fight with all the ferocity of a tiger in the jungle. A blatant roar rang throughout the air. The neekas stopped in mid-fight, halting on the ground in front of Kresk, ceasing to swarm over him. Each turned in the opposite direction and ran into the umber, disappearing into the dim corridor to hide in their secret nests. "That's it! Run! Run all of you! I'm coming to kill every one of you! I'm eatin' squirrel tonight!" Kresk victoriously screamed, blasting a few more neeks from the back of the unit, closing with a hysterical laugh of triumph. He turned around to look at Ch'tar and Raven, a small grin of satisfaction still on his face before he asked, "Now, what in the hells roared just then?"

A thundering something rammed Ch'tar head on, answering the riddle. Startled, Raven dropped the lamp, causing small flames to ignite the spilled lamp. Raven found that she could see in the dark rather well, but still didn't know what attacked Ch'tar. All Raven caught was a glimpse of something massive and dark, with a flash of red towards the beginning. Ch'tar howled as he was rushed along into the hallway at Raven's right. Kresk ran after, Raven in close pursuit. She heard a sickening thud, come from up ahead, and Kresk skid on his hooves before he stopped completely. Raven halted behind Kresk and looked at the abomination ahead. Ch'tar had been slammed into a wall, his eyes closed and his ears drooping. The monster began to turn around. The body struck Raven with the impression of a massive hippopotamus or rhino, fat with short, strong legs. All of its mass was covered in thick, leathery onyx skin that almost looked like a single layer of jagged rock covering the whole. Spines here and there added to this perception, like small stalagmites. Its pillar-like feet ended in four oversized ivory claws. The things head was blunt and bullet-shaped, a ridge of spines around the neck acted as a frill. Two huge, red eyes rested on the sides of the skull, like a snake. Lacking any cornea or iris, the eyes were pure brick-colored orbs. But the mouth was the most shocking aspect. Simply massive, it stretched from the neck to a little past the upper jaw. Opening that horrid maw, the brute displayed a tongue as red as its eyes. And teeth, rows and rows of massive, gleaming teeth the size of Kresk's hand. To finish the dreadful image, a pair of mammoth tusks emerged from the sides of its mouth. Staring at Raven and Kresk with its bloody eyes, the Nightmare Beast scratched the ground and prepared to charge.

"Alright, here's the plan." Kresk said to Raven. "I'm gonna' run at it, and shoot at it til' it's dead."

"That plan really isn't well thought out. What if it doesn't work out?" Raven sarcastically inquired. Kresk turned his head back to her a little, sighing out, "I'm sure you two will figure out something." The Fire Demon screamed and charged the Nightmare Beast, the creature charging at the same time. Raven wondered what Kresk was talking about, and suspected that he knew more about her than he let on to. But she didn't ask questions. She just moved out of the way. Kresk fired some blasts from his rifles at the Nightmare Beast as it drew closer. They barely pierced the skin, but did manage a little bleeding. Unfortunately, for a creature as large as the Nightmare Beast, the shots only enraged it. It rammed Kresk with its head, causing a painful gasp to blast out of the demon, his Acheron cigar flying out of his mouth and sending one of the Remington on to the floor. The Fire Demon was now lodged on to the cranium of the horror, his remaining firearm still in his hand. With his free hand, he tried to claw out one of the creature's red eyes. The monster turned away so that all Raven could see was its backside before it charged into another hallway, disappearing into shadow.

Raven heard another explosion from a rifle in the darkness. The Nightmare Beast howled, unseen, in the corridor. Raven ran to see the current massacre unfolding. She almost forgot about Ch'tar as she ran. Her moral conscience urging her to act, she went over to the glabrezu. He looked dead, but Raven couldn't be sure. She would have looked for an artery, but she couldn't be sure if the demon's small hands had the same anatomy as a human, or a humanoid's for that matter. Looking for breathing was useless; demons, of course, don't breathe. Luckily though, when things began to look bleak, Ch'tar let out a canine squeal and moaned something in Abyssal. Raven was able to catch "I…fine. Help…Kresk." She gladly said, "Right." Happy to see the dog demon alive, Raven began to form a plan in her mind.

"AAAAHHH!" Kresk screamed as the Nightmare Beast rushed past Raven's corridor, the battling demon still grasping to its skull. It rammed Kresk into a stone wall, shielding its own head with the fat tanar. But that was not to say it was unscathed. Cuts were all along its head, causing blood to flow along, and the rifle shot Raven heard earlier had blown out an eye. But it still wasn't enough to really kill the creature. Kresk's grip was loosening, and the Fire Demon wasn't looking so good, covered in bruises, and bleeding in a couple of spots, and those were the visible wounds. Kresk didn't fear death, but he feared not being finished with a lot of things before he died. And so, looking at what he though was his demise in its one remaining red eye, began to say his last words, "To the last I-" The Fire Demon was cut short from being rammed into the wall again. Starting again, this time spitting up some blood and with a less conscious voice saying "Towards thee I-" before being stopped from yet another hit into the wall. "Round Perdition's fla-" he sputtered out before he felt the cold rock, now stained with blood, hit his back again. Facing the end, Kresk let go of the Nightmare Beast, pulling his claws out of its flesh, and laying limply in front of the behemoth.

"Kresk!" Raven yelled. The Fire Demon lifted a single claw and moaned out, "With my last breath, I curse Andrew Lloyd Webber." The talon dropped, and the Fire Demon lay still. The Nightmare Beast turned around and looked at Raven, who was now standing at the axis of the four hallways again. It seemed to smile with a crocodile grin, blood pouring down its head and its one eye glowing hatefully. It roared, and began to charge.

Raven ran from the colossus, moving down the rock halls of the cellar as fast as her legs would take her. She had never realized what a pain running was. She was so used to flying or teleporting if she needed to get somewhere. The monster was close behind her, pursuing relentlessly, its massive form causing a terrible sound with its claws scraping on the floor and horrid breath blasting out of the Nightmare Beast's nostrils and mouth. Raven took a left to throw it off, then right, and then straight ahead. 'This isn't good.' the young mage thought to herself. 'Normally this is the part of the movie where someone runs into a dead end.' And sure enough, the next turn led to nowhere. All that was in the corner were three empty burlap sacks. Nothing but another rock wall was ahead. Raven turned around and gasped in terror. Somehow, the Nightmare Beast had just appeared, simply silently stalking up on her. Trapped, Raven wondered what she could do in a panicked frenzy. She thought about praying to something, 'I need a miracle most of all.' Raven desperately told herself, realizing the redundancy of her own statement. And then, Raven felt her. She felt _her_ break through the wall that was Raven's conscious and conscience. And slowly, Raven felt herself lose control of her body, felt the power leave from herself. And drifting into that hellish purgatory state that she was forced into every time Everything She Should Have Been took power, Raven heard in the distance of her perception, "Who needs miracles when you have me?" And then, Raven was gone. All she could do was watch. And the Demon lived again.

The Demon crouched, her feral, serpentine eyes gleaming at the Nightmare Beast, unnerving it, staring it down. She crouched on the ground, her legs ready to spring. The Nightmare Beast charged forward, and instantly, a plan came to the Demon's mind. A quick plan, but deadly in its simplicity, sharp as a dagger. Time slowed for the Demon's mind as the Nightmare Beast ran towards her. When the quadruped was barely an eyelash away, the Demon jumped. She sprang, and with mindless reflexes, leaped on to the Nightmare Beast's head. Here was a claw mark by Kresk, and there a bullet wound, and further up a jagged spine to grab. Each wound by the Fire Demon seemed to be perfectly placed for her in the Demon's mind, each one a handle, a step. She could see the path of wounds like a trail in a forest, all leading to the greatest landmark. In barely a matter of seconds, the Demon, without suffering a scratch, was on the side of the Nightmare Beast's head with a working eye. And with a hideous firmness, a demonic strength, the Demon straightened out her hand and plunged it into the working eye of the monster. And now, the creature blind, the Demon began the second part of her plan.

Ignoring the current gore on her hand, the Demon plunged her straight palm into the Nightmare Beast's eye again. The terror screeched and howled in pain, but it moved. In horrible agony, it ran forward into the dead end wall, the Demon hanging loosely on the side of its head so she could avoid hurting herself. Scampering to the other side of its head, the Demon struck her hand into the other eye, forcing the beast into the wall again. And for a final time, the Demon found a scrap of loose flesh, a claw mark crafted by Kresk, on the center of the head. Grabbing a loose edge, she pulled as hard as she could. As the Nightmare Beast ran forward, the Demon scampered onto its back. For the third and final time, the blind Nightmare Beast drove its head into the wall, using all its might to try and hit an opponent it couldn't see or feel past its thick leather skin. Unconscious, the beast fell to the ground. The Demon perched over the form, listening and waiting. Soon, a scraping, clattering noise came down the hall, following rubble and a small scent of blood. A wounded Ch'tar and Kresk appeared. The Fire Demon walked over to the head of the unconscious Nightmare Beast. He looked at the Demon perching there, into those young snake eyes and smiled at her in pride. Then, taking his Remington, he stuck the rifle point blank to the Nightmare Beast's skull. He only hatefully murmured, "See you in hell." Before releasing a blast. The creature's body seized a tick, and died. Kresk waited for something else to happen, shifting his good eye around. It seemed too easy, just to fight the monster to the ground, nearly die, and then finish the job. And the Nightmare Beast shouldn't have been that stupid. But obviously, it was that easy and the monster was that stupid, no doubt a side effect of its unnatural, arcane fusion with a spell-eater dragon.

And then, what everybody was waiting for happened. Magic flowed back into the area. Upstairs, the lights came back on. Kresk felt arcane fire flow through his veins again, as did his young, insane, heroic apprentice. And with this genesis of enchantment flowing into her, the Demon departed, letting Raven take control for a few mere seconds before she collapsed. Kresk laughed out, "Every time!" as he caught the young mage in his arms while she fell off the Nightmare Beast. Ch'tar said something indiscernible in Abyssal. "Yeah, she'll be fine. She just needs a little rest. We should probably take a little break to. I want to be at full strength when I kill those neeks." Kresk said. Ch'tar blurted something out questionably. "Well of course I'm going after them. I have to finish what I started! But first, let's see if we can't find some healing potions. My bones are more broken than Limbo on Saturday." Nodding in agreement, Ch'tar gimped to search for the tonics.

The Fire Demon, Raven in his arms, limped off to a corridor he remembered passing that had a large amount of burlap sacks. Finding said hallway, Kresk laid Raven's head on one of the bags, before sitting down himself. Curious as to what was inside the totes, Kresk ripped one open. Black wool, dry with age, filled the container to the brim. Of course, it was wool from infernal sheep. Kresk rolled his orange eyes at his own ignorance. Taking out his own small container of healing potion, he pulled off the cork of the flask and drank the medicine down. It tasted horrible, even with the Arborean wine he had thrown in for flavor. Kresk stuck out his forked in disgust, trying to wretch out the taste. He heard Ch'tar laugh behind him, re-emerging from his expedition in the corridors. The howler demon was holding a bag in his smaller set of hands. "What've we got?" Kresk asked. Ch'tar took a seat across from Kresk and opened the pack. The dog demon rummaged through the carrier and withdrew two glass bottles filled with red liquid. Laying the bag down, Ch'tar gently held the two bottles in his pincers. He brought them close to his aging, canine eyes, and seeing that they were what he wanted, opened them with his small hands. He drank down each one, shaking his Great Dane head afterwards.

Kresk scavenged next. A potion of stealth, a potion of fire resistance, a potion of magic restoration, a potion of awakening, and even a potion of flight were unearthed before Kresk found the potions of healing. He chuckled at the potion of flight, a nostalgic smile slipping across his face. Ch'tar looked at the Fire Demon. Kresk, not looking over in Ch'tar's direction quietly said, "I'm the only one of them who can't fly, ya' know. All the rest can shoot through the air like comets, but not me. This might come in useful later." Kresk poured some of the potion into a glass vial and slipped it into a pocket. He picked up another bottle of red potion, and after staring distastefully at it chugged the whole case. He shivered and spit out his tongue again, hacking and wishing for something to wash out the taste of the brew. Ch'tar laughed and grabbed the pack again. He dug around and scooped out a large jug with a cork firmly planted on the top. Three imp skulls decorated the side of the green clay flagon. Kresk saw it and laughed a bit, "Ch'tar, you old dog demon. Pass that stuff over here." The howler demon threw the pitcher over to Kresk. The Fire Demon removed the cork from the top, allowing a scarlet vapor resembling mouths to escape. Taking a fast swig, he pressed the bottle to his mouth drank in quick, and withdrew in a flash. He felt the daemon brandy, made of the pure, liquefied essence of pain, crawl down his throat, leaving and indescribable, stinging pain to cling to the inside of his mouth. The Fire Demon screamed out in agony, breathing a jet of flame out as tears of blood welled in his eyes. When the pain had stopped, he laughed a little bit, coughing out smoke with the hearty chuckles. The drink had restored Kresk to full health, his wounds healed (save for the scars, which he liked to keep) and his vigor restored. Ch'tar guzzled a bit, and, shaking his mongrel head, let out a loud howl. The two demons sat and chuckled for a while, imagining the idiocy of the scene in their minds.

Kresk looked over at Raven and wondered why the noise hadn't woken her up. He drifted his eyes over her, checking everything; her chakra lines, her humours, her arcane and elemental flows, as well as normal, human qualities, like heartbeat and breathing. Everything checked out normally. 'Demon must've done a number this time.' Kresk thought to himself. Kresk withdrew a small cup from his pockets, and poured a health potion into it, along with one drop of daemon brandy. Moving towards Raven, he lifted her head gingerly, and pressed the cup to her lips, allowing a tiny bit of the liquid to pour down her throat. A few seconds later, Raven woke up, unleashing an unearthly scream that nearly cracked Ch'tar's skull. And, a bit like Kresk, the howl was accompanied by a burst of black flame. Raven coughed a few more flames out, her throat still stinging from the tonic. Kresk merely waited for a flare and desperately tried to light a much-needed cigar on it, to no avail. Raven wheezed out, "Kresk, what the Hell?!" Kresk started laughing at hearing Raven swear for the first time.

And he continued laughing until Raven punched him in the arm, after which he laughed even harder. She stared a Kresk with a gaze to turn milk sour before harshly saying, "It's not that funny." Kresk finished laughing, saying, "Yes it is." Raven only huffed. "Ah come on," Kresk pleaded, "I had to wake you up. There's work to be done, and little time to do it."

"You're immortal. Can't you just wait?"

"Child of mine, you mistake immortality for patience. Now, do some of that divination crap you do. I need to know where the neeks are making their nest."

"Why?"

"To be a god."

"What?"

"You'll understand when we get there. Now just divine for me."

* * *

Finding the nest was the easy part for Raven. It was just a matter of astrally projecting herself through the walls and following one of the scurrying rodents. The neeklas had apparently turned a section of the cellar into a fortress, blocking doors and hallways with junk and rocks and constructing miniature traps. Kresk didn't care. He and Ch'tar broke old stone walls down with exploding fireballs and monstrous pincers. The neeks that attacked were dispensed of quickly with arcane embers, while the ones that didn't die tried to run into the walls. But Kresk formed a barrier of fire over the cracks. The neeks looked up at the Fire Demon in fear and awe. Kresk raised his height to eight feet tall, having to bend over to fit in the room. He widened his eyes, flared his nostrils, bared his teeth, changed the hue of his skin to red, and breathed fire out with every word that he spoke. Magnifying his voice, Kresk shouted in Abyssal to the conclave of neeks, "I am the Fire Demon Kresk! Behold my sheer magnificence! Know this, you filthy rodents! I am a GOD! You have but two choices before you; bow down and worship me, or die!" He ended this last remark by shooting a stream of flame from his mouth. The neeks cowered in Kresk's shadow, the reflection of his fire in their eyes. Then, one of the rodents ran and tried to leap at Kresk's face, sword in hand. Kresk merely unleashed a fireball on the minute vermin, leaving only a charred husk to fall to the ground. Kresk moved his eyes over the furry mob, before yelling out "Anybody else?!" The neeks only cringed and huddled closer. "Good." He said, "Now, bow." One by one, the neeklas bowed down to the new god and his pantheon (that is to say, Raven and Ch'tar).

"And now…spread the word!" Kresk screamed. The neeks dispersed into the walls as Kresk took down the flaming blockade. Returning to his normal form, Kresk whipped soot and dust off his robe. Raven blankly looked at him and asked, "Was that really necessary?"

"All a matter of presentation, child of mine. Now, you two stay put. I'll be back in a minute."

"Where-" But before Raven could finish her question, Kresk was gone, running through the hole in the wall he and Ch'tar had made to get to this room. Raven waited patiently, tapping her foot as she looked for the Fire Demon's return. Ch'tar glared down at Raven, annoyed at her tapping foot. The young mage, stopped, looked at the howler demon and realized that a strand of her hair was in her vision. She considered moving it, but then thought about how much she kind of liked it. It was a little bit of chaos manifesting on her usual form (the Demon excluded), and added something to her mystique. So Raven just let the strand hang there limply. She almost didn't hear the thumping sound coming down the hall. Kresk shouted out, "Gain way!" Raven and Ch'tar stepped away as the obsidian minotaur charged through the hole, knocking loose some stones with its broad horns. The construct was fully alive now, the blocky stone form moving in total reality. The obsidian minotaur charged for the opposing wall, and Raven saw an arcane seal on its back, the sign of a Demon Prince; a twisted circular maze awash in blood, the symbol of Baphomet, Lord of the Endless Maze.

The obsidian minotaur, obviously a construct based off of a golem of one kind or another, burst through the wall to the other room. It stood perfectly still as dozens of neeks tried to damage its stone skin, to no avail. Kresk yelled, "Now!" The minotaur started to 'breathe' in. Kresk screamed to Raven, "Kid, put up a shield!" Raven formed an orb of shadow around her, Kresk, and Ch'tar. Observing the minotaur, she watched as it 'exhaled' shooting some kind of gas from its nostrils and mouth. When the smoke cleared, the neeks seemed to be just frozen. Raven let down the shield, and was horrified to see the little creatures had been turned to stone, as gray and dead as the rock they laired in.

"Charge the next two walls! The leader can't be too far off!" The minotaur, not even acknowledging that it heard Kresk charged through the next wall, destroying a wave of petrified neeklas. It hit the next wall and disappeared into a poorly lit room. Kresk, Raven, and Ch'tar followed it into the newly open room, but were unable to advance far. The main defenses of the neeks rested in this room; the might of their army and elite soldiers, traps, and even miniature catapults. The trio went back to back, Kresk facing the other room. In perfect imitation of a general, the Fire Demon snorted out, "Cover me. I have to kill the cancer to save the body!" He shot a massive cone of fire from his free hand (his other still holding a Remington), clearing a path to the next room.

Ch'tar struck out at masses of neeks, blocking arrows and small rocks with his pincers. Then, he started to use his magic. Barking something out, Ch'tar unleashed an explosion of leaping, ricocheting energy at a group of neeks, blasting them helter skelter. Looking over to a separate group, the glabrezu barked another word, and the whole cluster floated up into the air. Towards a new battalion, Ch'tar stared and howled softly. The group of vermin dispersed, insane and confused, their minds splitting. To add to this group's insanity, Ch'tar conjured a mirror in front of them and several other squadrons. And finally, the dog demon howled into the air, summoning six dretches to do his bidding. They skittered about and randomly killed anything smaller and weaker than them. Ch'tar resumed battling with his claws.

Raven was only using non-lethal blasts to knock some of the neeks away and drive them to unconsciousness. It was working so far, as she was only suffering some minor cuts from the occasional shuriken. Looking into the throng, Raven saw that some of the neeks were infighting. The rebels stood under a banner separate from the leaders; the anarchist's flag depicted something big, red, and fiery. Then, Raven quickly realized that the streamers showed a crude depiction of Kresk. In the brief five minutes between Kresk's manifesto and this battle, a small sect of the neeklas had turned over to worshipping and following Kresk. Of course, only a few of these rodents saw Kresk as a new power of religion; most simply didn't like the way the current neekla society was being run and were aiming for revolution. They merely used Kresk as a symbol, an excuse for this open rebellion. And in the end, Raven concluded, this is exactly what the old, fat demon would want. Raven formed another shield, blocking a barrage of pygmy arrows.

Meanwhile, Kresk confronted the mastermind behind the neeklas' current government. At the end of the room, a small shrine was centered on what Kresk thought was a rock, two small braziers at its side. Before he could investigate any further though, the elite neekla Kresk had seen earlier charged him, jumping high into the air, katanas drawn and poised to strike. Kresk, without a second thought blasted a fireball at all them, incinerating them in mid-air (he never tired of that trick). Save one. The leader, now charred, disgraced, and deformed, took out a wakizashi, and determined to die with honor, began to perform ritual suicide. Kresk would not allow this tiny pest that respect, and merely shot it to smithereens with the Remington.

Now Kresk was free to devote his attentions to the deformed boulder. The stone was covered in metal trinkets, treasure to the neeklas that worshiped it. Kresk began to pick up the rock and found it surprisingly light. He brought it to his face and saw a crack forming a hemisphere around the boulder. The crack opened slightly. Kresk brought his face closer, trying to peer in. Two tentacles shot out and wrapped around Kresk's face. The Fire Demon tried to pry away, but the rock had a mind of its own. It stuck a tentacle into one of his nostrils, and another into his mouth. Kresk could smell sweat and mildew, dirt and spit. He tasted the ooze coming off of the tentacle. Kresk bit down on the tentacle. The 'boulder' let go off his face, but Kresk did not surrender the tentacle in his jaws until he had bitten it off. Afterwards, he threw the 'rock' to the ground, and spit out the excrement. "Illith slime. So, an Incubus Chest is causing all this?" Kresk said to himself. Yes, an Incubus Chest it was, Kresk knew. Failed creations of Socothbenoth, they were created to appeal to all the perverse fetishes of all beings in the multiverse, especially those with a tentacle bent. However, said perverts were more than a little deranged, and so Socothbenoth formed the Chest's minds around the pure essence of madness. Needless to say, the monsters were totally insane, transmitting innuendo across as complete idiotic rambling, such as 'Celery red heart blue rainbow scribble?' or such. Soc considered them a massive failure, and so, like many Demon Princes, attempted to destroy any and all signs that he had ever tried the experiment by killing off the chests. This, apparently, was the last in existence that had formed a small cult for itself out of the neeks.

Kresk turned the Incubus Chest on its back and started banging on the hemisphere with the end of his rifle, grunting out, "I…will…not…be…screwed…by…an oyster!" The chest still refused to open. "Open the chest." Kresk ordered the obsidian minotaur. The construct tried to open the chest with its hands, to no avail. "Ram it!" Kresk ordered. The minotaur put the chest on its head, between its horns, and charged for the wall. The construct rammed the Incubus Chest into the wall, again and again and again, until at last Kresk saw the opening was now growing wider. "Stop." The old demon ordered. The minotaur ceased its assault. Kresk removed the Incubus Chest from the top of its head. Before the shell could close, Kresk stuck his fingers in and pried the chest open. The inside of the Incubus Chest was really, as Kresk had described, more like an oyster's. It was mostly empty, save for a bit of slime here and there, as well as the throbbing core. The hear of the chest, where the pseudopods sprang from, was a gunky mass of soft, pink flesh that ended in a large head shaped lump. Emerging from the tumorous head, two blank eyes stared at Kresk. No mouth was present, but Kresk could hear the incubus chest screaming in his head. 'And you damn well should be.' The Fire Demon thought to the creature.

Kresk spat out, unleashing a small fireball into the cavernous shell. It didn't do anything, just floated in midair. Kresk let go of the shell, dropping it to the ground, as the Incubus Chest clamped shut. He kicked it to the entrance of the room, the hole in the wall. Looking over the melee, he whistled sharply. The neeks looked over, seeing their god now. Kresk placed a single, jagged, cloven hoof on the shell. The Fire Demon snapped with his free, clawed hand. Inside the Incubus Chest, the fireball exploded. The burst was enough to crack the shell open, as fire and slime was spewed out of the now dead 'god'. It splattered onto some of the horrified neeks. The army dropped their weapons and surrendered. The neeklas bowed down and begged for mercy from the new 'god', allowing some of them to be eaten by dretches. All Kresk did was grin, light another cigar, and inhaled deeply. Looking out over the neeks, Kresk pointed to his fanatics, that is to say those that he sensed actually thought he was a god and feared him the most, and said, "You lot, come with me." The neeks stepped forward and clung to the edges of Kresk's robe. Staring at the rest, Kresk arrogantly said, "The rest of you…start working on my temple." The neeklas nodded their head in fear. Kresk signaled to Raven, the obsidian minotaur, and Ch'tar, walking out of the room back to his house. And later on, old neeklas would regale their grandchildren with stories about the day the blood-soaked gods of war came with wrath and fury.

Kresk trudged up out of the cellar, the lights now on in the house again. He threw the Remington down on the floor, sat down, and plopped his hooves onto his desk, throwing his head back in exhaustion. Raven came back up, followed by Ch'tar, the obsidian minotaur, and the group of fanatic neeklas. Ch'tar waited for the extremist rodents to exit before, with the help of the minotaur, he picked up the cellar door with his massive claws and slammed it shut, dislodging more books from Kresk's shelf. Kresk blew smoke from his nostrils in stress, but was too tired to care. As Ch'tar and the minotaur rolled back the carpet, Raven began to put manuscripts back on the bookshelf, and the clerical neeklas gathered around Kresk as he lay in a tired stupor. Ch'tar left for the main room, while the minotaur only stood there, waiting for orders. Kresk wheezed out, "Now, wasn't that fun, kiddo? Nightmare Beast, Incubus Chest, and demonic ninja squirrels all in the same day. All a full day's work for us."

Raven only heard Kresk say something, but she wasn't sure what. It occurred to the young mage that between the roars, explosions, gunfire, and screaming, her hearing might have been damaged a little. She said (unwittingly yelling), "What did you say? I couldn't hear you. I think I might have gone a little deaf down there." Kresk realized what had happened. Searching through his pockets, he pulled out a potion he kept at all times. The glass vial was labeled 'Mage Restoration', guaranteed to cure hearing and speech problems. Shouting, the Fire Demon yelled, "Catch!" and threw the bottle to the shadow walker. Raven turned just in time to catch the container. She was used to drinking and preparing potions; it was part of her craft. So after reading the label, she drank it easily in one swift gulp. And just like that, Raven could hear again and, oddly enough, was able to speak more fluently. She looked over to Kresk and, once again unintentionally yelling said, "Thank (catching her voice volume and lowering it mid-sentence, after pausing a moment in embarrassment) you." Kresk only raised a tired hand and formed the 'OK' sign.

Looking at his feet, the Fire Demon saw that the neeklas were avidly staring at him. He stared back and laid his head down again. Looking back with one eye, he saw that the demonic ninja squirrels were still standing there. "Aw, what?!" Kresk yelled. One of the neeklas, the current 'high priest' of Kresk, stepped forward, and squeaked something. Kresk groaned out in Abyssal, "I don't know, find something to do by _yourself_." Kresk had not actually made any plans for _after_ he was 'deified', he just wanted the fame. The neek squeaked something again. Kresk snapped, "Well I'm not the Incubus Chest! Your last god was an insane, perverted clam that never should have been created. I'm just an insane fatso with lots and lots of power." The head neek continued its chirping in a falsetto sermon. At last, Kresk relented and said, "Fine. If you want something to do so bad, help my apprentice reshelf the books." The priest piped a question. Kresk, annoyed, retorted, "No, I will not say it in the old tongue." The neek tried to retort before Kresk yelled out, "What part of 'nay' dost thou not understandeth, arch-cleric?! Now go forth and shelf my tomes!" The neeks scattered and tried to help Raven with the books.

Raven watched as the neeks attempted to put the grimoires in their proper place, strapping them to their back and scuttling up the shelves. She wondered why the minotaur did not help, forgetting for a moment that it was a construct. The obsidian minotaur only stood there, awaiting a voice or command to give it life through the command of service. Raven asked Kresk, "What will happen to him?" she nodded over to the minotaur. The Fire Demon wheezed out, "I don't know. I don't have any use for him. Gods below know I have enough servants and slaves as it is." There was a moment of silence, aside from the shuffling of dusty manuscripts, before Kresk said, "You keep it."

"What?"

"You heard me. You keep the obsidian minotaur. Surely you could use it for _something_. Have you got a vault?"

"A what?"

"A vault. You know, a little demi-plane of your own." Raven thought about the sub-dimension that was her intellect, but didn't think it was wise to put something as powerful as the golem in there. She hesitantly said, "No."

"Alright. I'll come up and install one."

"I'm fine just with my room. Besides, why would I need one?"

"Haven't I already explained this to you? You don't _need_ one. It's just _having_ it. After me, how many people do you know with their own demi-plane?" Raven's thoughts went to Malchior and Rorek's prison. Kresk snorted out at Raven's hesitance, "After the stupid dragon that hit on you, and that blue moron in the hat that defiles the very word 'magician'."

"None."

"Exactly. So, I'll see what I can't scrounge up in Sigil. Plane seeds aren't cheap, mind you. I might only be able to pull up a small room or something." Kresk was silent for a while. He stared up at the ceiling reflecting on the day. He had almost died, or so he believed. He was an old demon, and the end was not far away for him in his mind's eye. There was a lot to lose for him, not his wealth, his legacy. And not his demonic memory in this world, a younger one. The Fire Demon did not fear death; no he feared something much worse. His fear was that he would be forgotten, that no one would carry on his empire of arcane knowledge. No one would carry his title for him, his place among _them_ and all that represented. Raven had learned from him, she was his 'apprentice', but it was a casual title at best. What he sought was an Apprentice, someone to carry his name among_ them_. But it had been so long. Were the others even still alive? But either way, he was determined to craft Raven into an Apprentice. She was strong, smart, and had all the wits and knowledge needed for the job. As had been written in the old tome, she was, in a word, _exceptional_. When she wasn't looking, Kresk swerved an eye onto her, and murmured out, "It shines there like a beacon, amidst the steel and chrome. A slender thread, it beams ahead, and points the way back home."

But even if he wanted to make her his Apprentice, he couldn't without a sign. He was still unsure about whether they were alive, whether they would accept her. Surely the others would have left this plane long ago. What the old Fire Demon need was a rekindling, a _sign_. Raven hovered down from where she had placed a book on the top shelf. She was holding an ancient frame in her hands. Kresk was only staring at the ceiling dreaming of a sign from above and below, when it came in Raven's soft voice asking, "Hey Kresk, who's this in this picture with you?"

The old demon smiled.

_Yes, it had come._

Raven walked towards Kresk in his chair.

_She was ready to be one of THEM._

She was right next to Kresk's chair with the old photograph.

_She was ready to be an Apprentice._

Raven wiped off some of the dust from the picture, the gray contrasting with her own dusky skin.

_She was ready to be an Arcanist._

"Who, kiddo?" Kresk asked, feigning innocence. Raven stuck the photo in Kresk's face. The traces of where her hand had wiped away dust showed most of the picture. The picture was black and white, bleaching out colors. In the image, Kresk stood smiling and laughing. To his right, a jolly man about his age smiled wide on a broad, plump and cheerful face. His bald head was shielded with a bandanna bearing an odd symbol. A set of wide, thick pilot goggles covered his eyes. The dark vest over his jovial torso was covered in pockets of numerous shapes and sizes. His baggy pants were only a little lighter than the color of his vest, matching the tone of the shirt he wore underneath the coat. A large pair of boots hid his feet, and gloves the same darkness were on his hands. And yet, despite his dark clothes, even the old picture made the man look like good and peaceful, happy and incapable of anger. All in all, he looked like a perky storm cloud.

To Kresk's right was a much younger looking man, barely older than Raven or Cyborg, truth to tell. He was an oriental boy, with a long face that reminded Raven of a colt (not a horse, as that implied something older). His bright, almond-shaped eyes danced with a mischievous gleam. A long mane of hair flowed down his head and neck, but it looked wet, like a waterfall. It was evident from its raggedness that the young sir's hair had been pushed out of his eyes just for this picture. He wore only a long robe that look wrinkled in spots, like a running river. To summarize, the boy looked like a living column of water.

And in the back a third man stood in the distance, facing away from the camera. Raven couldn't make out any details of him, other than he was huge, a mountain to be sure. Kresk chuckled out, "Why, that's the old Arcanists picture! I wondered where it had gone. There's Bert," he pointed to the plump man at his right, "And that's Drake," Kresk directed his finger to the youngest subject, "And that's Nid." Kresk's claw resting on the mysterious figure in the back "We were the Arcanists. Our own private, secret society."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing in particular. Mostly we just had extravagant meetings every now and then. We liked to stay in touch. But alas, I have not heard from the other in so long. It is a shame the elements should die like this."

"The elements?"

"It's a figure of speech. Each of chose our own element that we represented. I, of course, was fire. Nid was earth, Drake was water, and Bert was air. It's been so long since I saw them last. I wonder if they're still alive sometimes. I know Drake can't be dead; he was only 324 when I last saw him. Barely an adult by dragon's standards."

"Dragon?"

"Yes, Drake was a Lung dragon, or what you might call an oriental dragon. Specifically, he was a Chiang Lung, a river dragon. But he was never truly faithful to his race; most Lung dragons are orderly, lawful. Drake was chaotic, a free spirit. He wandered between China and Japan, and eventually flew over to America, where the natives saw him as a rain serpent, a spirit. They weren't too far off. His real name, unoriginally, is Tatsu-Chiang-Rainsnake. A little pseudonym he crafted. It's much longer in his native tongues, but he shortened it for our sake. We only called him Drake because that's what Nid called him."

"Why?"

"Because Nid also was a dragon, but a much, much older one. He's a chromatic, a green. For the longest time we did not know his name, so we only called him 'Dragon'. He doesn't like Drake because the Lung is young and naive. Nid is bitter and callous, a truly ancient monster. I don't think I've ever seen him smile in all my years of knowing him. But back to the point. Since he was 'Dragon' and Tatsu was a lesser being to him, he started calling Tatsu 'Drake', lesser dragon. It just caught on. But I digress. None of us have spoken for so long, not since Nid accidentally killed his last Apprentice."

"How do you 'accidentally' kill somebody?"

"Nid's a hard ass when it comes to his apprentices. He believes that might makes right, so he constantly pushes his students to their limits. Sooner or later, the ones that don't die go insane. But the ones that live become some of the greatest fighters in the world, powerful and nearly unstoppable. They can almost perfectly control their element, but that can be said of all Arcanists. But like I said, Nid usually pushes them over the edge. Still, I wish I could see em' again. But I don't have any reason to waste all that time, especially without an Apprentice of my own."

"I thought I was your apprentice."

"Yes, you're my apprentice to a degree, meaning you wander in here every now and then and learn a new spell. But you are not an apprentice of the Sacred Order of the Arcanists. That is, unless of course you want to join." Kresk smiled, barely holding back the anticipation in his voice. Raven asked, a tone of suspicion in her voice, "What happens if I do?" Kresk grinned even wider, "That all depends on you, child of mine. So, yes or no?" Raven hesitated for a moment before she said, "Fine. After all, what's the harm?"

"Exactly. Now, wait one second." Kresk went to the old chest in his office, rummaged like a dog for a bone, and pulled out a long, flame red candle. He sat back down at his desk, and used one of his claws to cut a smaller candle from the bottom of the progenitor. He sharpened the edge of the new flare until the wick revealed itself to him. Lighting a flame in his hands, Kresk ignited the larger candle, and handed the smaller one to Raven. Trying to sound dignified, he boomed out, "Now, do you, Raven Roth, Daughter of the Demiurge Graz'zt, do you solemnly take up the title of Apprentice to the Arcanist of Fire Kreskarius Voneitz, and all that entitles?"

"What does that entitle?"

"Don't be a smart-alek. Just say yes."

"Yes."

"Alright then." Kresk lighted Raven's candle with his. Then he took both of them and put them in a candle-bra on his desk. The flames had turned red, but didn't give off much light. Raven waited for something else to happen. She looked at Kresk and said, "That's it?"

"That's it, presuming I'm the last Arcanist alive."

"What happens if you're not?"

"Like I said, that all depends on you, child of mine. That all depends on you. Now move along. I need you to make preparations for tonight." Raven looked at the candles one last time before she walked away. Kresk waited till she was out of earshot before he started laughing. He couldn't stop, he was just so damn happy. The Arcanists might reform! But when? When was the sign? Tonight! Of course. Bert had made it the anniversary of the Perseid. Kresk danced a little and looked at his pocket watch. The night was so far off. How would he survive until then? But it didn't matter. The Arcanists might be back, if the stars were right. He laughed and sang in Abyssal, his banshee wails splitting the neeklas' ears.

* * *

Kresk tapped his hoof impatiently has he watched the night sky through the window in Titan's Tower. He could barely see any stars from all the lights in the city. It had been a good prank, this one. Raven had pulled out the quija board and pretended to be possessed. Kresk pulled out all of his favorite old tricks after his apprentice 'fainted'; the walls bled, furniture floated, and Kresk's gravelly voice filled the room. The other Titans, terrified, fled. Kresk laughed with his apprentice; he had found that she had developed a cruel streak in her at one point or another. Tomorrow Raven would pretend to forget anything happened at all, and any evidence to the contrary would be gone. It was an old joke Kresk found was even funnier in this new day and age, with all its cold science that robbed magic of its beauty.

Raven incinerated one last charm she had left on the floor before she decided to turn in. Looking at Kresk, she saw him longingly stare at the few stars. She smiled before she said, "Goodnight Kresk."

"Night' kiddo. Sweet dreams. Cut the light on the way out." Raven smirked again before she walked out, flipping the light-switch on her way out. Kresk stood there in the darkness, his eyes glowing orange, contrasting the blue light flowing through the window. And still, he looked at the sky. And then…

There. A light in the city went out. And another. And then another one. Soon, every light in Jump City was out. It wasn't a complete blackout, just the lights. Kresk tapped his foot even faster, a little more than his heart.

And lo, in some northern corner of the sky, a meteor flew by. The reflection streaked on Kresk's eye, cutting the orange with a slice of blue-white. And then another comet did the same. And as if all the dead lights in Jump City had risen to the heavens, hordes of shooting stars flew across the evening cosmos. But Kresk did not see that group. By then, he was already running to the stairs that led to the roof of Titan's Tower. He wasted no time, moving as fast as his hooves would take him. He hit the wall of the staircase, and made a sharp turn. He didn't remember getting to the roof. He just remembered the stars.

Faster than angels falling from Heaven, faster than fireflies dancing, faster than lightning on the Plane of Air, the stars shot by the dozens. Kresk lifted his arms to the sky and started laughing and dancing. His howls rang through out the quiet bay, and the Fire Demon fell on his knees and laugh before he heard _him_.

"Mr. Kresk!" A young voice like a smooth brook yelled out. And in the distance, Kresk saw a Lung dragon coming. Drake, in his reptilian form, shot down to where Kresk was now standing and swiftly picked the Fire Demon up with his teeth, tossing him into the air so that Kresk landed on his back. "Mr. Drake!" Kresk jokingly yelled into the dragon's bovine ear. The two laughed as they raced beyond the reach of the city, to where only the night sky showed over a calm ocean.

"Ahoy!" A jolly, light voice sounded behind the two. Bert shot beyond the two, as quick as static electricity. He circled back, laughing dancing around the other two as they stared at the shooting stars. "Where's Nid?" Drake screeched. As if to answer, the ocean below began boiling. A massive explosion erupted forth, carrying a wall of water with it. Emerging from the pillar, a gargantuan dragon, its plated scales a deep green, spread its massive, tattered wings. A ridge started at its ancient head and ran down its neck, ending at its tail. Opening its crocodilian jaws, it spewed forth a jet of acidic gas into the air, leaving a scent of chlorine. Unleashing a horrendous, bellowing roar, Nid flapped his massive wings, not saying anything, his entrance doing enough. And to those around him, he almost seemed to be laughing, if such a things was possible.

For hours the four flew about, watching the stars come down, listening to the calls of heaven. All the while they planned and discussed their apprentices, and the journey that lay ahead. Yes, for the first time in years, the Arcanists were re-united. No one could possibly understand what this meant, how important this event was, and that was the way the four liked it.

_The sky is alive on a mid-summer night  
Before the moon comes rising  
Stars will dance with their ribbons of light  
Stretching to the far horizon_

_- _John McCutcheon, 'The Perseid'_  
_

* * *


	12. Chapter 12: Send in the Clowns

**I'm back, baby!  
**

* * *

"_You can't shake hands with clenched fists."_

-Indira Gandhi

_"Isn't it bliss?  
Don't you approve?  
One who keeps tearing around,  
One who can't move.  
Where are the clowns?  
Send in the clowns."_

-"Send in the Clowns"; _A Little Night Music_ by Stephen Sondheim

The next morning, Raven opened her door to find Kresk sleeping in front of it, tired from waiting for her all night long. But before she could say anything, the Fire Demon was up and more alive than the young mage had ever seen him. His eyes wide open, a grin from ear to ear that exposed his jagged teeth, Kresk spewed out a river of incoherent joy. He flew into Raven's room and bolted from corner to corner like a child on Christmas morning. Amidst the disjointed prattle, Raven was able to pick out a single phrase from the old, currently out of character, demon, "They came! They're HERE! THEY CAME!"

"What? Who came? Who's here?"

"The Arcanists! They're alive! They came HERE! They all have Apprentices! And it's all thank to you, kiddo! It's all thanks to you! There's so much to do. We have to get ready for the Magnificent Odyssey! Pack your things, we have to leave quickly. If Bert beats me…Oh what am I saying, he's hosting the trip. But we could still be second! Do you have a pack, a suitcase, a Bag of Holding?"

"Slow down, Kresk. What are you talking about?" Kresk stood still and took a deep breath. He explained to the young Apprentice, "When you initiated yourself into the order, it caused the other Arcanists to initiate their Apprentices. Even Nid has one now! Because of you, the order is alive again. And now we must perform the rituals of the Stupendous Resurrection and Initiation of the Apprentices. But first we have to go on the Magnificent Odyssey. Oh, you're gonna' love it."

"So the Arcanists are alive? I thought you said they were dead."

"I said I _thought_ they were dead. But they're all still alive and kicking. Now less chatting more packing."

"Well what's this trip you keep talking about?"

"Ah, you mean the Magnificent Odyssey! It's the initiation process of our group, if you will. We take each of you rising young mages and tour the planes, from Ysgard to the Abyss, Acheron to Heaven, and finally initiating you in Sigil, City of Doors. Now get ready, you're stuff isn't going to pack itself you know."

"Whe- When is this trip?"

"As soon as possible. We could probably leave by tonight if we hurry. Which brings us back to the issue of you not packing…"

"And just how long is this little expedition?"

"Oh, who knows? Most of them don't go on more than two or three weeks. But one time we got trapped in the Outlands for five years! Of course none of that will matter if," Kresk threw a travel pillow into Raven's hands, "you don't start packing."

"Kresk, I can't do this! I can't just leave for a few weeks."

"Oh? And why not?"

"Because I might be needed here. What if someone gets hurt?"

"Medicine."

"What if something supernatural attacks?"

"Guns."

"What if they need back up?"

"Once again, guns."

"You know, guns aren't the answer to everything."

"Nonsense; this is America. Of course they are." Raven's disapproving look with hints of worry and confusion mixed in caught Kresk's attention. He asked, "Look kiddo, this is nothing big. Don't think of it as a trial; think of it as vacation. Just think about it. No fighting idiots on the street, relaxing, seeing the planes of existence. I promise I won't let anything bad happen. Besides, it's not like you have much choice."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We don't have many rules in the Arcanists, but we do require that you go through the Magnificent Odyssey. It's the one mandatory duty. Afterwards you can do what you want. In the mean time we try to make it as enjoyable as possible. Now what do you say; just this one little trip for the order?" Raven looked up at the old Fire Demon, still trying to process a decision. She cautiously asked, "You promise you'll take care of everything, that nothing bad will happen?"

"I swear by the Styx. If I break that oath I must drink from the Dark River itself, forfeiting my memories." Raven sighed and looked away from Kresk The Fire Demon perked up his pointed, frayed ears, and was practically standing on the tips of his jagged hooves. Raven breathed out, "I'll have to think about it." Kresk fell back to earth and tried not to show his inherent impatience. He backed out of the room slowly stammering out, "All right, all right, that's cool. You just think about that. I'll be waiting for an answer." At that, the old demon teleported out of the room.

Raven lay on her bed and thought about what Kresk was offering. And she continued to evaluate the conundrum for a long time, not wanting to leave Titan's Tower in lieu of some suicidal circuit circumferencing sensibility. All her thoughts seemed routed to this home, to this room, to this bed.

Of course, there would be no story if Raven had said no.

Why did she decide to do as Kresk asked, to leave home? Like so many youth, Raven found herself struck by a case of wanderlust. The multiverse seemed so vast and unexplored; so many places on her map seemed blank. It strikes all beings sooner or later, especially the young. Home is simply no longer exciting enough for our refined pallets. Raven wanted to go out and see the worlds, explore and find out what was just beyond the edge. Here there be dragons the old maps would say, marking territory hidden and dark. If this world's unknown regions were home to dragons, what lay in some far more exotic place's province?

And so, two days after Kresk told Raven about the Magnificent Odyssey, the Shadow Mage found the Fire Demon overlooking the living room. Robin sat on the couch reading. Cyborg and BB played video games in earnest, and Starfire strutted over to the fridge to find nourishment. Kresk was muttering out, "Open it. Open it." The Titan opened the compartment and screamed out, slamming the door shut and backing away. Kresk laughed to himself, "Oh, it's these simple moments you live for."

"What did you do this time?" Kresk just noticed Raven standing next to him. He smiled, "Head of veal. It'll be out by the time they get there." Indeed, as Robin consoled the crying Starfire, a bloody calf's head crawled out of the refrigerator on spider legs. It went into a vent without a trace or trail. "Where's it going now?" Raven asked. "Stupid's pillow." Kresk chortled out. Raven merely sighed. Kresk queried, "So, you come to a decision yet?" There was a pause before Raven said, "Yeah. I've been thinking about it, and I've decided…Sure. Why not? I'll go with you."

Kresk let out an immense smile and said, "That's what I wanted to hear! Now, go start packing. I have to go alert the other Arcanists." As Kresk began to leave, Raven called out to him, "Kresk. I'll go, but on one condition. If I'm disappearing for a few weeks, I think the Titans deserve to know why. I think it's time for you and them to meet."

"What?! You can't be serious!"

"I'm dead serious, Kresk. You have to let all this angst go and learn to live with us."

"No, I'd rather live with the hatred. The hatred's always been there for me."

"Kresk, you're going to meet with them or I'm not going on this trip." Kresk look flustered for a little bit, tried to snort out a retort, and finally submitted, "Alright, fine, you little blackguard! But they're coming on MY turf. I want to have a little fun first."

"Why can't you come here? It might help them adjust a little better."

"Adjust? This is MY home, first and foremost. Before there was even a town, a hamlet, a stone here, I was on this island. No, no, they'll come to me. I'd rather kiss A-" Kresk's face suddenly turned dull and was filled with fear. He stammered and panted like a thirsty dog. Kresk put his hand under his jaw, lifted it up until his mouth was closed, and muttered out, "I just remembered, I must be attending the forum now. Go talk to your friends and have them come by my place tomorrow. My decision is final." The Fire Demon slid into the shadows, his orange eyes fading into nothingness. Raven looked over her friends again before heading for her room so she could wait for the next day.

* * *

The next day, Raven emerged from her room at around 10:30 A.M. She had woken up at six in the morning, ate breakfast, showered, and then spent the rest of the morning trying to get ready for the day. She was now confident that the Titans were ready to meet Kresk. She didn't believe herself of course, but then again, she wasn't confident that SHE, the Fire Demon's Apprentice, could handle Kresk, so it all balanced out in the end.

As Raven walked down the hall to the living room, she felt like she was forcing herself through a solid fog. A barrier, it made the prospect of not telling the Titans about Kresk easier and easier. She could just leave a note before she left. Maybe she could just disappear. The courageous part of her psyche said that she was beyond the point of no return, when Raven fully knew that the point of no return was far ahead.

The Titans sat around the table at breakfast. At least this would make the announcement a little easier. A little…

Raven walked over to the kitchen, took a small porcelain cup from a cabinet, and poured some leftover green tea into the cup. She walked over to the table, took a seat next to Starfire, and slowly sipped from the tea. Looking into the murky beverage, Raven was trying to stay calm, actually tranquil about the events planned for today. She noticed ripples in the elixer and realized that her hands were shaking with anticipation. No one saw her fear, so masterful she was at countervailing any signs of emotion in her face.

At last, Raven felt a sentence crawl out of her stomach and emerge as words to the other Titans. "You guys," everyone looked at her, "I'm leaving for a few weeks." There were various remarks on inquiry, boiling down to 'what' and 'why' from the clan. "It's something I have to do for (at this moment, Raven thought of a polite way to refer to the whore-mongering, chain smoking, alcoholic, drug-dealing, kleptomaniac demon that cooked Styx squids and sporadically broke out into singing Gilbert and Sullivan that was Kresk) a friend of the family."

"You mean a monk has come from Azarath to here?" Starfire gasped, cheerful at the prospect of a new friend. "_Other_ side of the family." Raven grimly announced. Looks of concern went around the table. "Look, he's nothing to worry about. He'll explain everything once you meet him. He's down stairs."

"Is he dangerous?" Robin asked. Raven reflected on Kresk after this for a brief second, and misleadingly claimed, "No." It was better that they find out for themselves. Robin and the others might react harshly if they knew Kresk was living in their home. Raven stood up. "Come on, he'll explain everything once we see him. She stood by the doorway leading out, waiting for the others. As they approached, Raven went down the hall first, leading the way.

In the antechamber, Raven walked towards the door to Kresk's home, when Cyborg asked, "Uh, Rae, what are you walking towards?"

"Oh, right, you can't see the illusion. Hold on a moment." She went to the wall and lightly rapped against it three times. A booming responded to it. Raven backed away with the other Titans. The illusion melted away, flowing off the wall to reveal the golden archway and door. Beast Boy smelled the brimstone and backed away, Starfire clung to an uneasy Robin, and Cyborg was simply dumb-founded. Raven took a handle on the door and opened it to reveal the blank hallway.

Each of the Titans nervously stepped inside the gloomy lobby and walked towards hideous Bormulk on his pedestal. Raven was at the back of the group, insuring that no one ran away now. Inside, she knew that THIS was the point of no return. For her, for the Titans, for Kresk, there was no turning back. The door closed behind her with a resounding thunder.

At that moment, before the Titans reached Bormulk, the succubae came out of the main room. Their black leather corsets shaping their already plentiful figures, they flew by. Each of the Titans boys stared and gaped with open mouths at the little seductresses. Beast Boy tried to stammer out a 'hey', but all that emerged from his throat was a squeak/croak. Robin's thoughts were consumed with the lustful figures, controlling all his thoughts. For some reason, the name 'Starfire' kept coming back to his mind. Starfire? Who the Hell was Starfire? The only two women in the world who mattered were those gorgeous creatures. And then they spoke, but only to Raven, only a simple greeting in Abyssal. The words rolling off their lips sounded like they were deformed to begin with and had been butchered with dull knives, but none of the boys cared. All that mattered were the succubae. And then, countering this infatuation, Ch'tar followed the two, snapping his massive pincers and jowling out a throaty greeting to Raven. Starfire noticed that nobody had payed attention to any of the Titans since they arrived. She thought it was an illusion. In truth, it was because the demons believed that they were too good to acknowledge humans. Ch'tar snapped the men back to their senses in horror as the giant stomped off. He and the succubae were on a diplomacy mission from Kresk, apparently.

"Hey Rae." Bormulk mumbled out, not even opening his old eyes. "Hey Bor." The young mage replied, taking the lead and walking by. Bormulk's snout twitched, and he lifted an eyelid. Seeing the Titans, his eyes perked straight to attention. He placed a massive paw in front of Raven, chiding, "Whoa whoa whoa! You know the rules! Stupid, Half a Man, Bimbo, and Boy Blunder aren't allowed in the house! We don't have a lot of rules here, but that is one."

"Big Red wanted to see them in person." Raven responded. Bormulk arched an eyebrow. Getting off of his perch, he stood before the Titans. He smelled the air around them, the fear, the anxiousness, and the apprehension. Looking back at Raven, then checking the Titans one more time, he shrugged his winged shoulders and groaned out, "All right. If he wants to see them, I can't argue." He transmitted a telepathic message to Raven, "If you think they can handle the crowd in there."

"Oh no, you mean the Carnival of Souls is still here?"

"Yep, and they're getting snarly from all this waiting. Personally, I give these mortals fifteen minutes before they run like Hells."

"Bor, that's cruel. I give them twenty, give or take." Bor stared over the Titans one last time before snorting out, "All right, whatever. Send in the clowns."

* * *

_Clowns_. Thank all the gods in every Heaven that they're as rare as they are. Who knows what sinister workings manipulate the minds hidden behind white face paint and ruby lipstick? And what could be more devious than the infamous Clown Demons? Horrors that even balors and mariliths fear, these repulsive tanars are terror incarnate. At least with other demons you know where you stand; they just want to kill and eat you. But not with Clown Demons, oh no, not with these paragons of chaos. Deadly beyond belief, they are masters of killing. It is said all their victims ever hear is the _flop flop flopping_ of their mammoth shoes. Then a laugh, followed by silence eternal. Any who have ever seen a clown and shuddered knows the truth of these words; clowns are the avatars of doom and corruption, seeking to destroy us all.

And so similar thoughts swam across Robin's thoughts as he sat across from (horror of horrors) a troupe of Clown Demons. The motley assortment was made up of five Clown Demons, each one garishly unique and unlike the others in any respect, save for a few common details. Shark-like teeth lined their mouths, bulbous red noses marked their faces, and gaudy make up marked their faces, matching their hideous clothes and monster shoes. Some had especially distinct features; one was four feet tall, perfectly round, and wore a pointed hat, while another towered at twelve feet tall, dressing in vagabond attire. This Clown's most disturbing feature was its ragged top hat, out of which a being resembling a hybrid of mole and lizard with deformed, bulbous eyes slithered and whispered secrets into the Clown's ear.

Every now and then Robin thought he caught one of the Clowns staring at him, but it was hard to tell. Their eyes were like a doll's eyes, always staring no matter what. They hardly seemed to blink, glaring like snakes. Robin thought it was all in his head until, disturbingly, without donning a maroon smile, one of the Clowns winked with a puffy eye. Robin shifted uncomfortably in his seat as thoughts of another psychotic clown he knew rode across his mind…

Something small was moving around Starfire's feet. Looking down, she saw a cat looking at her, but not like any cat she had ever seen. It had bat wings on it back, and a barbed scorpion tail. Its face was like a human's, save for its feline eyes. Its fur was dark red and streaked with black stripes. Hissing at Starfire, the monster revealed its three rows of interlocking teeth, spread its wings, and arched its scorpion tail. Starfire gasped and clenched Robin's arm. The manticore cub eased itself and walked over to Raven. It rubbed its head on Raven's bare leg, meowing with a flute-like voice before it hopped into her lap and making a nest for itself. The mage scratched behind the manticore's ear, listening to its content purrs.

Beast Boy stared up at the top of the chandeliers, looking at the statues of the viscous, six armed mariliths. 'They'd be kind of cute without all those extra arms' he thought to himself. There was a splashing sound behind him. Turning around, Gar saw a demon lying in a bathtub. The demon itself was huge. Its humanoid torso had four arms, while its draconic head bore fiver, curling horns. From the waste down, it looked like an eel, its tail ending in a fat lump. The bath was filled with dark green water, complementing the blue and aqua scales of the water demon. The tub was black and supported by four lion paws. In one hand, the demon held a newspaper, in another a pipe, in another a pencil, and in another a glass filled with a yellow liquid swarming with worms. The demon wrote something down on the paper, apparently a crossword, and then inhaled with its pipe. Opening its plump tail, it was revealed that the tail was in fact another mouth, round and lined with row upon row upon row of teeth, like a lamprey.

The door to Kresk's office opened. Janys' voice called out, beckoning a patron to come. Without looking up, the myrmixicus tapped its bathtub with its pencil. The tub's four legs lifted the bath and walked into Kresk's office. Mean while, the Demon Clowns groaned and complained.

"What?!"

"Oh, come on!"

"We've been out here for hours!"

"What the Hells?!"

The short one in a pointed hat only squeaked its red nose, a discontent tone coming out. "Gods, we should have taken that gig in Gehenna when we had the chance." One of the Clowns complained. There was an awkward silence as the Clowns re-adjusted themselves in their seats. After a while, the tall one with hideous familiar spoke up, "So. It comes to this." An expression of worry and annoyance creeped across the other Clown's faces. "I could have been great, you know." The Clowns grew more anxious as the speech continued. One of the muttered, "Please no, not this rant. Anything but this rant. I'll give my good teeth not to hear this rant."

"I could have been a star." Another clown pulled a flask from its suit and drank heavily. "I could have been…"

"Gods, I'm not a righteous man but if you can hear me now…"

"Pagliacci." All other clowns howled out in despair and rage. The should-be Pagliacci only stared at the ceiling. "A full house," he continued, " a full house at the Sigil Operatorium. The Lord of the Musical Underworld himself said I should do it. But I passed that chance, passed all that glory. And for what?" Janys called out, "Rae."

"That's us. Let's go, before this gets ugly." Raven stood up, the manticore cub jumping out of her lap. Approaching the hall, the water demon in a tub walked out in its tub, still busy at its crossword puzzle. Raven and the Titans entered Janys' room. The other Titans looked around for the source of the voice they had heard earlier. Walking over to Janys' bowl, Raven tapped the edge lightly. Janys emerged as a pillar of slime, her two green eyes looking tired as usual. "Is he ready for us?" Raven asked. "If you're ready for him." Janys gurgled out. Raven nodded, opened the heavy door to Kresk's room and held it open for the other Titans. Janys glowered at all of them as they stared at her. Cyborg was too slow to move, and so Janys spat a bubble of slime at him. "Hey!" he yelped out, barely dodging the snot. Janys only sank back into her bowl. Raven slammed the door shut.

Standing in Kresk's study, the other Titans looked at his horrendous paraphernalia. "Dude, what is this guys problem?" Beast Boy asked, seeing barbed chains and the heads of demonic animals on the walls. "Indeed, I feel much hatred and anger here, evil. Even the air feels unclean." Starfire fretted as an emblazoned shield with a famine spirit inside stared at her. "You sure this guy's not dangerous?" Cyborg asked, a speck on anxiety in his human eye. "I'm not dead yet." Raven retorted. Suddenly, all the lights went out. Darkness consumed the room. The Titans huddled together. "Don't worry, this is just a trick he likes to-" Raven was silenced in mid-sentence. Kresk pulled her back into the darkness, covering her mouth with his hand. He lifted a finger to his mouth and shushed her, whispering, "Let me have one last joke." Kresk cast a spell over Raven, making her invisible.

Starfire lit a beam in her hand, and Cyborg activated his flashlight. The group noticed Raven's absence. "Raven?" Star squeaked out. "Rae?" Beast Boy meowed out. Kresk laughed out (in a sinister tone, of course), the chuckle ringing throughout the room. The Titans flitted their eyes at the edge of the light in fear. Kresk scuttled at the border of the umbra, letting the clacking of his hooves sound. Star's light followed the sound, catching a glimpse of Kresk's robe before he disappeared. Kresk prostrated himself behind Cyborg, growing to eight feet tall but still unseen (thanks in no small part to a potion of stealth). Quietly he placed his claws on the robot's shoulder. He clacked them against the metal very gently. Cyborg saw the talon on his shoulder and yelled, "Whoa!" Kresk withdrew and moved back quickly, before Cyborg was done turning around. The Titans could see his glowing orange eyes in the dark, but they were gone in a flash. Robin threw one of his custom shuriken at where the eyes had been, but it hit nothing except Kresk's desk. Kresk stood in front of Beast Boy, bending down until he was eye level. Garfield smelled brimstone nearby. He slowly turned around to see Kresk's eyes peering at him. Stunned, he couldn't even change into anything before the lights were back on. Beast Boy yelped out at the sight of Kresk deformed, scarred face. The Fire Demon grinned and said, "Boo."

Beast Boy leaped back, Starfire screamed, and Robin and Cyborg readied their weapons. Cyborg shot a beam and Robin released another shuriken. Kresk conjured a shield of fire in front of him. It was in fact the one of the only Abjuration spells he knew as the Fire Demon valued more useful schools of magic like Necromancy and Conjuration, but the spell came in handy. The shield dissipated, and Kresk jokingly said, "Now boys, is that any way to treat a friend?" Kresk snapped his claws, breaking the spell on Raven so that she re-appeared next to the old demon. "Where were _you_?" Beast Boy asked. "He turned me invisible. Like I said, it's one of his tricks." Raven responded. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" Robin asked with clenched teeth. "I, dear child, am the indomitable, unbeatable, infallible –"

"His name is Kresk." Raven answered for the Fire Demon, knowing that none of the other titans wanted to put up with Kresk's flourish. "He's a fire demon-"

"_The_ Fire Demon. It's a title, thank you very much."

"Whatever. He's a demon, and this is his house."

"Why is it in our wall?" Beast Boy asked. "It's not; it's a pocket dimension."

"I knew that." Garfield said frowning. "I meant why is he here, in the Tower?"

"Because when I last fell asleep some odd forty years ago there was nothing here but an island and some moss." Kresk snapped. "I could ask why you built a tower on MY island."

"We didn't know you were here!" Beast Boy barked. Kresk glared and snarled, "Why must you turn my private study into a HOUSE OF LIES?!"

"Truly demon, we were not aware." Starfire protested. "Well I'm not leaving either way. I've made myself right at home here, and I have to keep an eye on my Apprentice."

"Who?" Robin asked. "That would be me." Raven said raising her hand. "What?! But why would you do that? Why would you become this thing's apprentice?"

Robin asked. "Hey, this THING has feelings." Kresk feigned. Raven sighed before simply saying, "Roots."

"What?" Cyborg pried.

"I wanted to know more about myself, about my family. I'm half demon; there's no denying it. I just want to know what that means."

"That and there was no catch at the time." Kresk said, "Which brings us to our current situation. We have a pilgrimage to make. Now, I've held up my end of the bargain, time for you to hold up yours. Start packing."

"Kresk, we're not leaving right now. They need some time to adjust. I think they deserve to no more."

" To Hells with that! I swore on the Styx I would meet your friends and nothing else. Let them piece the rest by themselves!" Raven was going to argue more, but before she could even utter a syllable, the Titans signal rang. Robin looked at the beacon and said, "There's been a jail break. We need to hurry!" Raven glared at Kresk, hissing, "We'll talk about this later. We have work to do." Kresk scowled, then smiled, saying, "All right. How 'bout I come with?"

"Seriously?" Raven disbelievingly asked. "Serious as a marut in a tomb. Besides, actions speak louder than words. And there's something I need to show your friends." Kresk said. Raven thought about it and said, "All right."

"Good." Kresk walked past the stunned Titans. He lit a cigar and put it in his mouth. Moving past Robin, he elbowed the young hero and said, "Come on, kids. Let's go round up some crooks."


	13. Chapter 13: A Beautiful Day

_"All that stirring of old instincts which at stated periods drives men out from the sounding cities to forest and plain to kill things by chemically propelled leaden pellets, the blood lust, the joy to kill--all this was Buck's, only it was infinitely more intimate. He was ranging at the head of the pack, running the wild thing down, the living meat, to kill with his own teeth and wash his muzzle to the eyes in warm blood."_

Jack London, _The Call of the Wild_

_"War is a series of catastrophes that result in a victory."_

Georges Clemenceau

The prisoner's had escaped into the streets of Jump City. Their first priority was to get transportation and leave the city, go into hiding. Twelve in total, some had been members of the Brotherhood, others were just slaves to the nefarious group. Either way, they had to get away. After procuring automobiles, the rushed through the streets of the city like Furies out for Agamemnon. One of the prisoners looked out the window, staring at the skyline, searching for the Titans. He looked at the blue sky, looked at his new freedom. Today was a good day. Today was also the last day he or any of the other escapees would ever see again.

Robin stood on the edge of a building, looking at the escaped cars. As usual, he placed an air of grandeur around himself with a majestic, stern pose. Identifying himself as leader were the other Titans in a V-line behind him. "Catch the escapees and get them back to the prison. Everybody take a different car. Starfire, you and me will take one, Cyborg and Beast Boy two others, and Raven the final one. Now, Titans, G-"

Kresk rushed past the Boy Wonder and leaped into the air before Robin could finish his sentence, the Fire Demon howling out "BONSAAAI!" He jumped higher than his short legs and fat physique should have carried him, moving like a locust. Before he had reached the building, the Fire Demon had drunk a bottle of jumping potion. It granted him the extraordinary ability to leap like a flea across the landscape, if only for a few hours. And that was more time than he needed. First impressions mattered the most, and Kresk was planning on giving the Titans all nine Hells of an impression. He had chugged down at least four potions; _jumping_, _bull's strength_, and _feather fall_ just to name a few. Of course the Titans didn't know that it was the effects of potions that gave Kresk these magnificent powers. To them, it looked like the Fire Demon could do anything at will, and that was what Kresk needed. They lived on his island by his grace alone. This was HIS city, HIS home, HIS multiverse, and there was no room for debate. Kresk planned on giving the illusion of godhood, and that was what the world would get. Like he told Raven, it was all about presentation. Once more, the world would get Kresk, ready or not.

Kresk heavily landed on the roof of a Greyhound bus passing by behind the escaping prisoners. The potion of feather fall insured that he didn't crash through the roof, but the impact was still hardy. Metal screamed as it bent to Kresk's hooves crashing on the ceiling. Passengers below screeched as the cloven hooves left imprints below. Kresk ran along, leaving more tracks in the covering, still visible below. When he reached the edge of the bus, he leaped off like a frog again. The jump took him to a fugitive's car. "What the Hell?!" one shouted, seeing the craters on the roof, cracking the wind shield. Kresk rammed his fingers through the window, bent down and peered with an evil grimace into the car. "Hello, boys! Now, everybody SCREAM!" the Fire Demon shouted. Grabbing a scar on the side of his face, a cut, he pulled the skin on his face away like a curtain. Underneath, a mass of Lovecraftian tentacles, eyes, claws, and mouths twisted and twitched, trying to bore through the window. An illusion? Damn straight, but one that never failed. The defectors screamed and tried to shake Kresk off the car, only to crash into a building's wall.

The Titans stared down at the carnage. Robin stared at Raven. She only nodded her head into Kresk's direction and said, "Well, go get them." At that, she took off into the air, the other Titans at her heels.

Mean while, the criminals Kresk had frightened got out of the car looking for the currently invisible Fire Demon. "Is it gone?" one asked. Suddenly, Kresk reappeared. He laughed, grabbing one by the shirt collar. Before the either could draw a gun, Kresk had picked his current prey up off the ground. He watched the highway for a while, and then threw the man into the path of the speeding Greyhound bus. He splattered against the window. The bus rocked to and fro before the driver lost control and the vehicle crashed through dry-cleaner, half the building collapsing on top of the behemoth machine. Miraculously, the fugitive had fallen off and was still twitching with life a bit. The other renegade shot a bullet into Kresk's arm. The demon groaned through his teeth in pain before smiling. He put his two fingers into the wound and pulled out the bullet. Resting it on his thumb, he placed his index finger behind it, then muttered out, "Sorry, boys. No survivors." With that, he flicked the bullet with the force of a pistol into the skull of the dying maroon, killing him.

The adjacent outlaw next to Kresk tried shooting another bullet at the Fire Demon. Kresk merely raised a shield of fire to deflect the ammunition. When he lowered the abjuration spell, he blasted a fireball at the fugitive, hitting him in the face. The man screamed in pain as his skin lit like a tissue paper, burning to the bone. The Fire Demon grabbed the criminal's face, lifted his head so he could get a clear shot at the throat, and then clawed out the jugular. Holding the limp corpse by the head, Kresk cut with his talons again, forcing a decapitation. Igniting the skull, Kresk threw the bodiless head into building, laughing as it exploded on impact, igniting a fire that would grow into an inferno. Kresk bent down and searched the remaining corpse. Reaching into a pocket, the Fire Demon pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He stared distastefully at them, spitting out, "Just Camel?" He stared at the cadaver, snorting, "You deserved to die." Nonetheless, he stuck the packet into his pocket. "Well, two down. Ten to go."

Leaping on to the top of the car, Kresk shot a fireball into the engine. The vehicle exploded, destroying some of the surrounding scenery. Kresk rode the explosion into the air (using a magical jump as a boost first). There, in mid-air, the Fire Demon called a demon from the Abyss. The demon that appeared was half vulture, half humanoid. Its avian head had a jagged beak. Huge wings came off its back, and feathers started at its head and continued down its spine until they formed a cluster of raggedy tail feathers. The purple skin was leathery, save for where it was interrupted by more feathers. Its hands and feet ended in predator claws and bird scales. Kresk landed on the vrock's back, and commanded it to do his bidding. The vrock knew that Kresk was the stronger demon; it would submit, for now.

Kresk flew down laughing and screaming on the back of the vulture demon. He darted past the Titans, currently trying to put out the fires he had caused and rescuing survivors from the bus crash. One of them yelled something, (Kresk thought he heard "STOP!") but that wasn't his problem. They probably wanted to nag his rugged ears off about 'responsibility' and 'endangering innocent lives', or 'honor' and 'property damage'. In Kresk's mind, there were only two ways to do things: the right way, and the safe way. Survival of the fittest, baby. Freakin' survival of the fittest.

The vrock landed on another car holding escapees. It dug its claws into the roof and pulled it away like a tin can. The salted driver somehow kept the car on the road. The vrock pulled a man like a sardine, and tore his arms off, splattering blood everywhere. The blood reminded the screeching demon of food back on its home plane, of the corpses of soldiers and souls. Hungering for the taste, the vrock bit into the prisoner's side, its beak crushing bones and organs like a hammer. It tore out a chunk of flesh and swallowed. Kresk hopped off the vrock, shouting "Give em' a bath." Leaping away, Kresk bounded in search of more prey. The other demon tossed its food away on to the street for him to bleed to death. The vrock shook its body and feathers. Spores of parasites, dead skin, dirt, and especially seeds came off of the vulture demon. Upon contact with the strays' skin, they instantly started to burn as the buds burrowed in. The driver fell unconscious at last and crashed into the car in front of him, causing a traffic disaster. When the escapee's bodies were recovered for autopsy later, they were found to be covered in roots and vines littered with thorns that had dug into their organs. The vrock flew away into the sky to who-knows-where. Like the Titan's humanitarian concerns, that wasn't Kresk's problem.

Kresk jumped into the rear of a moving truck and scanned for more of the escaped criminals. From his perch, he saw another trio in a car a distance away. Before the Fire Demon went after them, he quaffed a _potion of bull's strength_ as quickly as his throat would allow. The tonic streamed from Kresk's mouth on to his robes, and the demon thought on how blood felt better and didn't stain his red robes. Kresk wiped excess concoction from his mouth and tossed the bottle aside. The Fire Demon leapt high into the air and landed in a few feet in front of the rushing vehicle containing the fugitives. Kresk grinned; barring his jagged teeth in a smile so crooked it could have hid in the shadow of a nail. The demon dug his rough hooves into the ground and clenched his fists. A split second before the car could hit him, Kresk punched it head on. The pain shot through his fists to no end, but now was not the time for griping about bruises. The massive dent had totaled the car's engine, making it incapable of movement. The renegades got out of the auto as fast as they could. Two ran in one direction, scampering for an alley like cockroaches. The third ran the opposite direction, of course. "Bad move." Kresk thought out loud. Amazingly fast, the Fire Demon dug his claws deep into the damaged car he had just destroyed. He bore his talons down until the crumpled metal was nearly at his white knuckles. Then, with all the strength in his body (and that loaned by the two potions he had drank), Kresk shifted his torso and threw the car at the poor man. The vehicle flew through the air and crushed the escapee, then crashed into the building behind him. "And now for the coup de grace-ee!" The Fire Demon shouted. Aiming hands (still sore from throwing a car) at the wreck with the now presumably dead man under it, Kresk unleashed a cone of fire on to the site of devastation, engulfing the bottom floor of the structure in the Fire Demon's maniac pyre. Kresk lifted his glowing index finger to his mouth and blew it out. One of the other two prisoners shouted something out. Realizing his folly, the man ran into the shadows of the city. Kresk turned around and hissed out with glee, "Now they will know why I am called the Tyger!" as the demon began to change.

Kresk rushed into the alley, engulfed by darkness. The Titans arrived at the scene of the latest destruction. "What the Hell is he doing?!" Robin snarled out. "What he does best." Was all Raven replied. "Raven, I don't care how well you know this guy, he has to go! Just look at what he's done to the city! We were just supposed to catch twelve escapees! We could have done that in no time flat, with minimal damage. But look at THIS! Three buildings are on fire, a bus AND a car have crashed-"

"To be fair he threw the car."

"And he's killed at least seven men! We just needed to capture them, not murder them."

"Yes. And?"

"Do something!"

"Why? I'm not his keeper." Just then, a scream came from the alley. Yelling and howling came closer and closer until, at last, an orange shape jumped on to a wall and then into the broad daylight. It was a tiger, but larger than any tiger the Titans had ever seen. It was red-orange from its nose to the tip of its tail, save for the trademark black stripes, which were asymmetrical and jagged. The fur was ruffled, rugged, and thick, without a single white splotch to be seen. Its black claws almost looked like its stripes had come off its paws. And its eyes were orange and black, to be sure. In its mouth was a screaming man, blood trickling down his skull from the punctured skin. The tiger placed its claws on the back of the evacuee's legs and pinned him against the ground. All at once closing his jaws and pulling the man's head, the derelict's skull burst just seconds after it was pulled from his neck. The blood splattered all over the tiger's fur and whiskers, the big cat licking it off with glee. The feline turned and orange eye to the Titans. Kresk's voice sounded in their heads, "Move!"

"What?" Beast Boy asked. He realized that the tiger was in fact Kresk in a different form. Garfield was no longer the only shape shifter in Jump City. Kresk started snarling at the Titans and dug his claws into the ground. Embers started to float out of the demon-cat's mouth and began to become a fire. "No way." Beast Boy muttered out. Kresk breathed out a cone of flame into the alley behind the Titans. Moments before the inferno could hit them, the Titans moved out of the way. Robin was too slow, and the flare ignited a small patch of his cape. In the alley, the third stray bellowed out as the flames engulfed him and burned through his skin. Robin tried swatting out the expanding phlogiston, to no avail. Then, a fox appeared. Well, it looked like a fox anyway. Robin wasn't sure what was what with all he had seen. The fox had silver fur, lined with patches of snow white on its stomach, paws, ears, and tail. But most importantly, it had lavender eyes. The fox opened its mouth and breathed out a small jet of cold, extinguishing the flame. The fox stared at Robin, allotting him the time to ask, "Raven?" All the fox did was stare before it chased after the massive tiger.

Kresk (in tiger form) bounded after the last three criminals. Raven (in fox form) managed to scamper next to him. "I'm losing their trail." Kresk communicated to his apprentice, via telepathy. "You set Robin on fire." She blandly replied. "Huh. I've had roast chicken, but I've never tried roast robin. I might have to give that a taste."

"You have to be more careful. They don't like all this destruction you've caused."

"Et tu, Raven? Unless you're going to say something helpful, keep you trap shut for now! I'm in the zone."

"I can tell you the fugitives are on the other side of the city by now."

"What? Damn! They must've gotten away while I did all the work! Are your idiot friends good for nothing?"

Raven merely ran beside him, still managing to give Kresk a disapproving look through a canine muzzle. Kresk snorted through his feline nostrils. "I'll have to teleport. Try to keep up!" The tiger leaped into the air and burst into a fireball when he hit the ground. He manifested on the other side of the city in his bipedal demon form. Kresk watched as the last three escapees almost got away, before the Fire Demon developed a plan for one last trick. Kresk shifted and contorted like wet clay until he looked like Robin. He conjured a missile of force in his hand and enchanted it to look like one of Richard's bird-arangs. Taking careful aim, he blasted out the tire in the get-away car. Hopping down on to the street, Robin (Kresk) waited for the three renegades to leave the immobile automobile. When they got out, he rushed towards them and kicked one in the face, careful not to use his own voice. Kresk found the boy's form to be surprisingly agile, but weak. He was already missing his own rotund form. The faux battle went on, what with the punching and kicking, until Kresk (Robin) feigned defeat and ran off. He seemed to _disappear_ into thin air. Men with common sense would have left and taken victory, but men locked in prison for a decade were hungry for carnage. They searched until one of them heard a bellowing coming from an alley. A candle zoomed through the air in strange patterns, the tail of light painting symbols in the air, while a voice howled out in a strange language (Russian):

Ну, служащий Kostchtchie!

Ну, Гигант Мороза Ледяных Трат!

Ну, берсеркер Бога Гнева!

Я командую этим!

The candle's flame tuned into a fireball, growing huge and casting shadows on Kresk's face. The flame turned blue and then disappeared. A stormy roar came out of the alley. The three miscreants felt the earth shudder as something ran towards them. Something big. A giant burst into the light. Naked save for a loin-cloth made from animal furs and heavy mammoth hair boots, his skin was light blue with his hair and beard being a darker shade. Standing sixteen feet tall, huge muscles rippled under his skin. He roared out in barbarian rage and blue light came from his mouth. But the most stunning detail was the giant's hammer; the thin handle was crafted from dragon-bone blackened by magical enchantments, and the head was nearly as large as the owner's body. In various places, a series of runes had been carved into the stone.

The giant raised his hammer over his head and brought it down on one of the men. When he raised it again, there was only a splat of blood and gore. The other two men ran and screamed. The giant raged after them, howling in fury and madness. Swinging its hammer to and fro, it smashed cars, planted craters into the streets, knocked down posts, and blasted anything else into the air. The two men got in their car and tried starting it up. The driver fumbled with his keys, his hands sweaty from his pursuer. Just then, a snarling was heard at the side of the window. Leering in, the Frost Giant snarled and raised himself back up. He brought his hammer above his head one more time and crashed it into the car. One of the men got out in time to escape; the other became another crimson blot on the hammer.

The survivor ran into a two-story building, assuming the giant wouldn't follow. But there was no structure that could stop the Berserker of Kostchtchie, no matter the size. The Frost Giant ran inside, swinging his hammer without any notion. The rogue dodged and weaved, taking advantage of the tight space constraining the muscled behemoth. The giant was more and more infuriated by this, and swung his hammer even more, knocking down pillars until all but one was standing. The fugitive made a fatal error and ran up against the column. Cornered by the Frost Giant, he planned to run between the barbarian's legs for an escape. But before he could move a toe, the giant opened its mouth and shot out a beam of blue light. When the deserter looked again, he saw that his feet were turned to blocks of ice. The giant smiled and swung its hammer, obliterating the last of the escaped men, but also crushing the pillar. Its foundation destroyed, the building rumbled as it began to collapse. The giant looked at the dying roof and howled out in defiant rage a challenge to gravity. The structure fell around him and the Frost Giant disappeared in the dust in rubble.

Kresk stood in front of the desecration and stared. He summoned oil above the wreckage, soaking the debris in fuel. The Fire Demon pointed a single finger at the carcass of a building and set it ablaze. The Titans gathered around him, Raven staying closest. "Why did you do that?" Beast Boy, mildly horrified asked. "He needed a funeral pyre. It's tradition." Kresk said. "Do you know what you've done? There were people in that building!" Cyborg panicked. "Well I sincerely hope they believe in an afterlife, I really do." The Fire Demon growled.

"There was no need to set the place on fire! We could've saved the people in there!"

"What's stopping you? Afraid to get a little dirty?"

"Why? Why did you do this? Those people had families! They were loved! You've caused so much suffering with your carelessness! Do you have nothing to say to that? Do you have anything to say to all this pain?" Starfire cried. Kresk took a deep inhalation of ash, intoxicated on the smell of blood and burning flesh. He slowly eased out, "I say, it's a beautiful day in the neighborhood." Robin had had enough. Enough of the suffering, of the chaos, of the evil and blasphemous creation. He screamed and charged Kresk. He leaped into the air, but before he could even land a blow, an explosion came from the rubble. A bloody, dirt covered blue hand burst out and began to crawl out. The Frost Giant pulled itself out and dragged its hammer along with it. Distracted, Robin allowed Kresk enough time to grab the boy by the neck. The demon snarled out, "Now boy, you wouldn't want to be doing that now. However well the carnies and Bruce trained you, Richard, you're severely outmatched. I alone am enough, but the Berserkers of Kostchtchie are utterly ruthless. So you'll want to back down." The Titans stood in wonder. Kresk had spoken Robin's true name, a taboo act almost as perverse as any sexual escapade of Socothbenoth. And furthermore, he had brought up Robin's personal life. Robin's history before the Titans was known to all of them, but it was never brought up. As far as they were all concerned, there was no Robin before Titans, no life before the formation of the pack. There was only the youthful sense of 'now' deleting those droll concepts of 'then' and 'later' (save for Starfire who drifted through girlish musings of long kisses, intimacies, and wedding bells).

Kresk threw Robin to the ground. Unwittingly, he had begun the next few minutes that would define his relationship with the Titans. The Fire Demon bent low and growled out "Watch your dreams. A flash of red and you'll be a vegetable for my soup." (Robin; irrational mind games and nonsensical psychotic threats.) "Why are you so violent? Why are you so cruel?" Starfire pleaded, overwhelmed by all the suffering. "Life is cruel. Existence isn't about rainbows and sunshine, you hummingbird bimbo! It's about suffering and change! Survival of the fittest! I've lived long enough to know the multiverse is a dark and bitter place. You would do well to submit to this inevitability." (Starfire; insults, underestimation, and pessimistic ranting meant to cause self-doubt and despair.) "Dude, why are you acting like such an asshole?" Beast Boy protested. "Ah, and now you come seeking my council, Stupid. But the price for knowledge may be more than you're willing to pay."

"What?" Kresk curled up his fist and harshly punched Garfield in the stomach. He then stared blankly at the sky and shouted, "The price has been paid!" (Beast Boy; random physical abuse, namely a punch in the stomach for questions.) "Hey, there's no need for this to get rough. But if you're looking for a fight, you came to the right place." Cyborg challenged. Kresk waved his hand and uttered out a prolonged, "Meeehh." (Cyborg; usually indifferent with negative undertones. Later, Cyborg would realize how good it was to be out of Kresk's loop.) "Come, children, and Apprentice. It's time to kick back. All will be explained at my humble abode. But first, I must pick up something from the Crusty Door." Kresk said, wiping dirt off his sleeves. "The Crusty Door? That old place where all the druggies and wine-os go to hang out?" Robin asked, on his guard for a punch to the stomach. "They are not druggies and wine-os! They are customers! My loyal customers! Each and every one of them!" Kresk retorted. "And what is it you sell?" Cyborg asked, almost scared of the answer. "Why, I sell the good word, of course!"

"Yeah. Seriously, what is it you're selling?" Kresk started to walk away, saying, "I sell everything you want."

"We can't just leave! We have to help all these poor people, all the survivors!" Starfire berated. "Survivors? What survivors? Face it; whoever is dead is dead. The fire on the other side of the city is burned out, done taking its lives, as are the rest of my handiwork."

"There might be people in the rubble here!" Starfire tried again. "I ask again, what survivors? Whoever wasn't killed by the building's collapse was eaten by the giant as he dug his way up and…Say, where is he?" Kresk pondered. It occurred to the others that the Frost Giant had somehow disappeared. "Ah well, if we need him, I'll just follow the screams. Now come. My patience grows thin. I have to go pick up that parcel. I think you're all going to want to see this."

* * *

The Crusty Door was your typical den of villainy and scum. Addicts, prostitutes, perverts, and the insane floated around looking for one more fix. The air was filled with smoke from all manner of tobacco burning pleasures, choking the air and light. Either men looked into their drinks morosely or compulsively drank round after round until their sorrows were drowned. Kresk had taken Robin and Raven with him inside before taking a human shape himself (a portly man wearing a trench-coat and sprouting a bushy moustache), telling everyone else to wait outside, much to their chagrin. Kresk talked to the barkeeper and disappeared into a backroom. The two Titans waited into a corner, trying to stay out of the way in the cramped pub. It was proving harder and harder. They were only just barely able to dodge several patrons. Everybody ignored Raven; she came in with Kresk and nobody asked why. The bottom of the barrel wasn't allowed to judge. The dance of duck continued until finally an old waiter crashed into Robin, dropping several glasses off his tray. He swore in a thick British accent, "Ah, bloody hell!" He looked at Robin with distaste which only deepened when he spat out, "Oh, bollocks. Don't I get any peace with you?" Robin looked closer and saw the true form of Mad Mod, the old, balding man with glasses. He asked just to make sure, "Mod?" 

"Yeah, it's me. What do you want?" the Englishman snarled. He set down the tray on the table and pulled a broom and pan from a nearby closet. As he swept, Robin asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Working. What's it look like?"

"But why?"

"Because I'm old, damn it. I'm old and poor. And I'm just now realizing that I'm TOO old to be chasing you and your brat friends around all over the place. And I need money to get back home. I seem to have pissed away my inheritance on you. I hope you're proud. You've robbed an old man of his family's money. That was old money, you know. That was money that saw Washington cross the Delaware. That was money that saw Waterloo. That was money that remembered Britain ruling the waves. And now almost all of it's gone, thanks for nothing. So I'm going to earn it back. I'm working here until I'm back on my feet. I just got to earn enough to buy my way back home and get my family's land back. I had to sell it for funding, thanks for nothing again. Now leave me alone. Fellows here need something to die in." At that, the old Brit wandered into the back to get more shot glasses. Kresk emerged on the way back with a parcel wrapped in brown paper, the same kind of paper used to wrap fish of the coast of Isle of Man.

* * *

Fish, dead and lifeless, stared up at Beast Boy as he sat at Kresk's dinner table. The changeling felt sick. Nearly everything at the table had meat of some kind. The demon feasted ravenously. An anaconda stuffed with glass eels had been ripped open as a decorative display. A whole pig with an apple stuck in its mouth sat on a bed of ribs. And fish stuffed with hen glared at the ceiling. And that was naming some of the more common meats on the table… 

Kresk quaffed a mug of… something black and bubbling. When he was done, he slammed his glass on the table, sighed contentedly, and rested in a stupor a while before he said to the Titans, "And now for the answers I promised. However, to ensure the quality of truth, I'm silencing you children." The Fire Demon snapped his fingers. The Titans' jaws twitched and were clenched shut. Kresk coughed and proclaimed, "I am the Fire Demon Kresk, immortal. I have dwelled in the spheres for many years, my home being this one in particular. Every now and then, when man grows to unbearable or I simply get tired, I go to a secluded spot of the world and rest for a long time. And so I came here, to a cave in what was then a deserted island near a deserted beach. And so my compatriots and I slept for forty long years. But then, something awoke me. A shift in the elemental balance, the source of which being a girl called Tera. I awoke, only to find my exit blocked. By the time I had clawed my way to the surface, she had left. However, I met a young shadow mage by the name of Raven. We had our tussles at first, the most infamous of which resulted in me having my jaw broken in three places. But in time, we came to become friends, and helped each other through our trials. In time, with full willingness, she became my Apprentice, who would learn my secrets. It was then that she was initiated into the order of the Arcanists. Unwittingly, I assumed nothing would come of this, believing the other three Arcanists dead. But they are alive as ever, and have their own Apprentices. And now we are ready to perform the Initiation, which will occur after the Magnificent Odyssey. And so I fear I must steal precious Raven away from you, for this is a mandatory part of the order. We will be gone for a while, but I promise to return her in mint condition." Kresk looked down at Raven, "There I kept up my end of the deal. Now go get packed, we're leaving tomorrow. If you have anything to say to your friends, do it later. And the rest of you, scatter! Out of my house! Except you, Richard. I have something for you."

The other Titans left, following Raven. Robin sat in his chair and waited impatiently for Kresk. The demon pulled out the brown parcel from his robes and threw them to Robin. "Here, an old friend for you." The Fire Demon snorted. Robin removed the brown paper and gasped. There, resting in his hands, was Slade's mask. Kresk grinned evilly as Robin asked, "Where did you get this?"

"I have him in a room in the back. If you want to see him, I could show you. And since I like you, I'll do it for free."

Kresk guided Robin into the back halls and started knocking on various doors, looking for just the right one. Robin opened one impatiently. Behind it was a brick wall with a crack in it. A man moaned out "Help me… Please…Help me."

"Oh, shut up Fortunato!" Kresk yelled. He slammed the door shut and opened another. Beyond it was a set of stairs that seemed to go on for infinity. The Fire Demon closed the door and opened a final one, smirking "Ah, here he is." Robin ran over. There, sitting in a chair was Slade.


	14. Chapter 14: Slade's Inevitable Fate

"_Death is more universal than life; everyone dies but not everyone lives."_

-A. Sachs

"_Pazuzu! PAZUUZUUU!"_

-Professor Hubert J. Farnsworth (Billy West), _Futurama_

Or at least what had been Slade. For now, all that sat in the chair was a decimated corpse, bludgeoned and burned. He still wore his armor, but the mask was gone. The cadaver was mockingly propped up in a simple wooden chair by rope. The stench was nearly unbearable to Robin, but not as unbearable as the truth. Richard struggled to grasp just what it meant that Slade was dead, and not even by his own hands. He walked over to the body, Kresk keeping an easy distance lest the foolish mortal tried to strike.

Robin lifted the dead skull of Slade. The face had been crushed, no evidence of a man apparent. In the end, all that was left of the body of Robin's arch-nemesis was everything Richard had seen him as; a monster, plain and simple. And yet, it was unfulfilling. So much had been endured for this moment, so much suffering. Tera, Red X, Trigon: all meaningless. Robin was expecting a god, and now all there was under the mask was a man.

He wheezed out to Kresk "How'd you do it?" The demon chuckled and backed the accusation away with his hands, chortling, "Oh no, my boy! It wasn't me who put an end to old…'Slab' was it?"

"Slade."

"Whatever. No, I did not kill old half-face; it was a team of Inevitable who did it."

"Inevitable? Is that some kind of metaphor?"

"Maybe. It's what they call themselves anyway. The Inevitable are a race of constructs based on the plane of perfect law, the Clockwork Nirvana of Mechanus. Whenever their high council senses a crime that defies the natural order of the multiverse, if it's severe enough, they send out an Inevitable to track down the perpetrator. They are judge, jury, and executioner.

When half-face here made a deal with that Trigon fellow, the deal was bound in blood and witnessed by the high council because of Four Eye's cosmic rank. I am doubtless that this was completely intentional to insure that 'Blade'-"

"Slade."

"-Whatever could not break his deal without dire consequences. Breaking the pact sent the kolyaruts after him. Prolonging his life by releasing other damned souls sent a marut after him. And running forced a zelekhut on his tail. The zelekhut tracked him for a long time, the rest of the team in tow. They finally cornered him. I remember, I was there, hidden. I've done some stuff the Inevitable might not like, of course."

The Fire Demon chuckled as Robin continued to stare into the empty eye-sockets. "Yeah, I'll tell ya', I've never seen a single mortal stand up to four Inevitable at once. He got rid of the zelekhut fast. Of course it was easy, its frame was light and it doesn't have much armor. The kolyaruts were hard. He managed to get the marut to blast one by mistake, but it was tricky. I can't exactly remember how he got the last kolyarut. There was a flash of light, what sounded like a thunderstorm, and then the thing was headless. Oh, but that marut, that marut was a real bitch to kill. Its body was made out of solid marble, it was covered in armor, and it blasted lightning and thunder from its fists. It hit his leg, you can see it on the corpse right there, and the lightning's what caused all those burns, but the marut's not the one that killed him. Somehow, even with a broken leg, he managed to crawl to the top of the statue and put a bomb under its helmet. A few seconds later, there was a boom, a bang, and not an animate Inevitable in sight.

Of course, he should have known that there was a price for so openly defying the natural laws of the multiverse. The punishment for killing an Inevitable is worse than death; the perpetrator must face a recoudut, an Inevitable of Final Resort. Whenever a being kills an Inevitable, much less four, a recoudut is sent to destroy the anarchist performing said crime. Not a moment after the death of the marut, a recoudut appeared. He tried to fight the construct, but to no avail. It was too strong. It finally killed him. His soul is now in Mechanus, laboring for all of eternity. He's gone, for good this time. His fate, as they say, was…inevitable."

There was a moment where Robin absorbed what had just happened. It was hard to accept this, hard to accept that Slade was now and forever gone. What was he supposed to do now? Why should he get up in the morning, Robin wondered. Something inside of him died, a dream died inside Richard. Unseen to anybody, the Daniel the Sandman stood behind the demon and Robin. Daniel was in many ways different from his predecessor Morpheus. That was after all why Daniel was there, because the last Dream did not want to change. The new Sandman was kinder to be sure, but only a little, not enough to change a simple fact of the Endless. That Dream was by far one of the cruelest of the Endless, even more than his sister Death and a little less than his brother/sister Desire. Robin was lucky; his dream of Slade had died quickly, in the instant he saw the corpse sitting in a chair. For others, the passing of a dream is a long and painful experience, taking years as the hope dies and fades into nothing. And all the while, Dream only watches as one of his children dies.

"I'll sell you the remains for fifty bucks." Kresk said. Robin dreamily lazed out, "No. Do whatever." Robin left the room in a trance-like state, Kresk close behind. Daniel walked in and untied the rope holding the body. It fell on the floor and shattered into pieces, staining Dream's white boots. The Sandman walked away. He knew Robin would recover. And even if he didn't, it wasn't Daniel's problem. For after all, a Dream is too big to surrender that quickly…

* * *

It was movie night in Titan's Tower. Almost every night was movie night, but regardless. Due to the infernal plot nature of several horror classic and Kresk's recent (public) arrival. The first vote was for 'The Exorcist', but at the mere suggestion, Kresk started running around and flailing his arms, screaming "Not Pazuzu! Pazuzu! PAAZUUZUUUU!" Obviously he wasn't serious as Raven knew, but it still disqualified the movie. Starfire forwarded 'Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat', preaching on the virtues of song, dance, bright colors, joy, etc. At the very name 'Andrew Lloyd Webber', Kresk pulled a sawed-off double-barrel shotgun, loaded it, and with one trembling hand placed it at the right side of his head, looking like he was having a seizure. 

Thankfully, the boys (save Robin, who was still in some kind of existential stupor) said they weren't in the mood for a musical tonight, or ever.

"So I guess 'The Producers' is a no then?"

"They re-made it?" Kresk asked. Cyborg disgustedly said, "Yeah, but as a musical." Kresk dropped his head and mourned, "Oh, Mel Brooks. What has the world done to you?"

"How 'bout 'Village of the Damned'? You don't have a problem with creepy little British kids with glowing eyes and monotone voices, do you?" Beast Boy sneered.

"Are they demonic?"

"No. It's hard to explain."

"All right, I'm open to new things every now and then."

And so the terrible re-make was selected, viewed, and mocked promptly at the end by Kresk he laughed hardily. Beast Boy asked, "Oh, what? Let me guess? This really happened where you came from didn't it?" Kresk snorted, "No, never. It's just the irony! They work so hard to keep things like this quiet, and then some stupid mortal blows it through the roof!"

"Who is 'they'?"

Kresk leered, "Why the illithid, the Mind Flayers of course. Yes, horrible aberrations that live deep below the earth in the caverns of worlds. Cold and alien, they have no wish but to blot out the suns and take the darkened multiverse as their own. Master psions, they have four tentacles around their mouths. When they catch you, they wrap those tentacles around your head and crack your skull open like a walnut. Than, they feast on your brains and psychic energy until your noggin is as empty as a coconut."

"So, what has that got to do with anything?"

"Well, you see, the Mind Flayers are incapable of basic reproduction, so they have several ways of populating their race. Among them is to impregnate human women, sometimes by shape shifting, other times by magic, such as here. The woman unwittingly gives birth to a Mind Flayer in human form. The child is pale and has white hair, but most importantly, they have magnificent psychic powers. They remain in their sheep's skin until puberty, at which point they mutate and transform into their true shapes, into Mind Flayers. I suspect that something very like this may have happened once. And if that is so, it means the illith are still alive on this world. Just waiting in the shadows, hungry, until they can spread their darkness across the globe." Kresk ended this with an ominous note. He had been staring out at the window, into the night itself during his monologue. When he turned around, four mauve tentacles surrounded his mouth and he asked, "Now who wants a snack?" The Titans shook their heads unnervingly. "No? Alright then." The tentacles dropped from Kresk's mouth and disintegrated on the floor.

"Well, I'm hittin' the sack. You'd be wise to do the same kiddo. We have to get up early tomorrow, if I know Bert. You got everything packed?"

"Yeah."

"Alright then. I have preparations to make. With any luck we'll leave this dimension before nine..-ish."

"Where's our first stop?"

"Technically we don't stop until we reach Sigil, 'journey is the destination' and all that crap, but I suppose our first plane will be the Ethereal Plane."

"The Border or the Deep?"

Raven and Kresk continued this little conversation in planar geography for a bit before the Shadow Mage and the Fire Demon parted. And for a moment, Beast Boy was scared. Raven was leaving, but who was coming back?


	15. Chapter 15: The End of the Beginning

_"Certainly, travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living."_

-Miriam Beard

_"Who lives sees much. Who travels sees more."_

-Arab Proverb

Raven's clock rang at 5:30 A.M., but the Young Mage turned it off. She had been up for nearly an hour packing. Despite Kresk's numerous warnings, she still hadn't actually _packed_ anything beforehand. Like some wanderer from one of the legends in her musty old tomes, Raven was merely stuffing items into a sack that was easy to carry. "It's best if you travel light." Kresk had told her earlier.

Raven started by packing her clothes, stuffing leotards, cloaks, undergarments, socks, and a spare set of shoes into the bag. Than, in no particular order, this was followed by makeup, the dress Kresk had given her ("Never know when you'll need something formal."), soap, tea, spell books, component and foci for incantations, her magic mirror, potions, scrolls, wands, a dagger, the bag of gems her father had given her, a pillow and pillowcase, and finally blankets. A normal bag would have burst by now, but the one Raven was using was no ordinary container; it was none other than a _bag of holding_, a legendary item, a friend to all adventurers, travelers, thieves, and tomb robbers. The bag was rough and leathery, and Kresk had hinted that it had been made from dragon stomach. 'Serves them right.' The shadow-dancer thought to herself, remembering a certain dragon whose entrails she would enjoy ripping out…

But Raven tried to forget her old prejudice. Besides, if Kresk was right, two of his friends she was about to meet were dragons. The old demon was as jittery as a little bird about this trip. He was moving around most of last night, after the other Titans had gone to bed, making preparations for the odyssey. Not two hours earlier, Kresk had woke Raven up and said, "They're ready." He told her to get packed (once more), and then let out a stream of gibberish before he handed Raven a list and left the room and…

The list! Kresk had muttered out that the items on his list were the most important of all; the ones Raven's life might depend on. She scrambled her hands on the surface of a table until she found the old squared up piece of paper and unfurled it. On it was scribbled

"The Planewalker's Essential Traveling List" 

The following items are no doubt essential to any and all beings that intend on traveling the planes. Make sure to pack at least one of each of the following:

A Towel; The single most useful item in all the multiverse. Always have a towel. Always.

Something sharp; Essential for combat, cutting, digging, marking down, and other things a basher's got to do. After a towel, your best multipurpose friend.

A good, sturdy pair o' boots; The thicker, the better. You'll be walking around in a lot of stuff you don't want your feet touching, believe me.

A blindfold; Lots o' things out there will drive a cutter barmy or blind if he keeps his eyes open- especially in the Inner Planes where all that energy and radiance will burn your eyes right out. Furthermore, a wet blindfold can be held in front o' your bone-box to act as a breathin' filter. This'll protect you (at leas a little) from noxious fumes, smoke, and other breathing hazards. Also see 'Towel'.

Earplugs; There are almost as many sounds you don't want to hear as sights you don't want to see.

Rations and water; Don't go expecting to find something to eat or drink out in the planes. More likely than not, most cutters ain't gonna want to eat what they've got there.

Rope; If you think that everywhere on the planes has nice, level ground, you've got a rude awakening ahead o' you, berk.

Oiled tarp or tent; You've got to carry your shelter with you when you travel the planes. Sometimes even the rain of a plane is dangerous- acidic, poisonous, or worse.

Torch, lantern, or magical light (best!); Like to see where you're going?

Journal; On the planes, it's easier to record where you've been than try to figure where you're going, so a journal is easier to keep than a map. Distances can change, berk. Some planes, space has little meaning. Keeping track of what you've seen to provide reference points is a good idea. It's also a handy place to jot down portal information, like the kind of key a basher needs to use one.

Money; Just like at home, a little jink goes a long way. No matter where you go, everybody speaks the language of gold. If you're not accustomed to giving out bribes- _change._

_DON'T BOTHER BRINGING:_

A map; The maps that you find on the Prime regarding anything on the planes are wrong. Even if they were right once, things change pretty fast on the planes, and they change big. Cities move, planes shift, mountains sink- you get the idea.

Minor magical weapons; Magic's tied to the place it was formed, so only the best and most powerful weapons work on planes other than their own.

A narrow-minded focus or superior attitude; Keep an open mind. Things out here aren't always like they were at home. Hardly ever, actually. And while you're at it, drop your attitude. Powers and their proxies live on the planes, berks, and no matter how tough you think you are, you ain't as powerful as they."

_ALL SPELLCASTERS SHOULD HAVE THE FOLLOWING SPELLS AVAILABLE AT ALL TIMES:_

_Light_; Plenty of planes don't even have a sun or normal illumination. Like seeing things?

_True Seeing_; To tell friend from foe and pick out shape changers.

_Breathing_ spells; Have all variants ready for earth, air, water, and fire. Better yet, learn how to not breathe at all.

_Tongues_; Not everyone speaks your language!

After making the proper preparations (which ate up another quarter hour as Raven threw various items out of her pack and stuffed scrolls, new items, a blank journal, and more scrolls into it), Raven felt that she was finally ready to go. There was just one last thing to do. Raven, out of habit or the genetic paranoia signature to all demons, opened her closet and prepared to awaken the Obsidian Minotaur. Kresk had given it to her, so the sorceress had kept locked away in her own private vault that was snugly in her cabinet. She opened the demiplane and ordered the Minotaur forward with a thought. It stepped forward, the floor shaking with each step. Raven spoke in a clear resounding voice to the construct, ordering "Guard this room and attack anybody who comes in here, unless it is me." The Minotaur shook its head in accordance.

As Raven left the room, the Minotaur standing perfectly still, she glanced once more before she took off. Jokingly, Raven murmured to her books, her bed, her baubles and beads, "Goodnight you kings of New England, you princes of Maine." She closed the door and walked away. On the rooftop, something was moving. Raven went up to check on the mysterious noises. The sun was beginning to rise, and all of the stars had faded into nothing. Kresk was sitting and murmuring something, his eyes closed. Raven walked up next to him and asked, "Are you praying?"

The old demon looked up and solemnly said, "We are creatures of the night, child of mine. We cannot afford to pray."

"Than what are you doing?"

"Paying lip service to a dead god."

"What do you mean?"

Kresk pointed a talon up into the sky, into some corner of the celestial dome still black with primordial night. And there, standing there for all of creation to see, was a single, bright glowing star. The morning star, the star that stands defiant to the light. It dimmed second by second, until at last it winked out and fell into the inky abyss. Raven had nothing to say to this. Demons were from the Abyss, so what was in Hell?

"Well, that's all folks." The demon said. He stood up and brushed the dirt off his robes. He looked at Raven and asked, "Are you ready." With a hopeful look, Raven nodded her head. The demon smiled and said, "Good. Now let's see where our companions are waiting." Kresk reached into his robes and pulled out a gold ring with a red gem stuck into it. It looked too small for the demon's finger, but as he slipped it on it shaped itself accordingly. The Fire Demon raised his fist into the air and pointed the ring at the sky. A beam of pure red light shot out and almost seemed to touch the horizon. As it stood glowing, pouring from Kresk's ring, three more lights came from some distant part of the city, about where the suburban areas were. A green light, a blue light, and a yellow light all shimmered in the morning. "That's them." Kresk said. "Well, let's get going. I expect Bert and Nid are already tired of waiting for us."

Raven and Kresk walked side-by-side downstairs. Raven was silent most of the way. And what could she say? She grasped and grappled with a thousand questions, but each one was as slippery as an eel. How could she ask a question? There was no single word for a thousand question marks and all their productive children. And so, Raven stayed silent until the pair reached the water's edge. Kresk murmured a spell and walked across the calm surface, Raven hovering a few inches above. She squeaked, "Kresk, what will this be like?" The demon laughed and said, "I don't think I could rightly explain it to you. You have to see it for yourself. But for me, the first time I saw all the planes, well for me it was like hearing the heartbeat of the multiverse for the first time. It changed me. It changes everybody who goes through with this, even if they don't realize it. The things that happen to them, the things they see; it shapes their being."

"What will I see?"

The Fire Demon started speaking in a thick, country accent, "Well, child' o' mine, I don't reckon I can tell you that. That's for you to find. But I guarantee ya' that you will be beholden to many bizarre sights, laws yes. You're gonna' see the Elemental Planes and the City of Brass. And you gonna' see the Chaos of Limbo and the Order of Mechanus too. I'm gonna' show you the fields of Elysium and the Gray Wastes of Hades. And when all's said and done, I'll show you the most wondrous thing you ever did see with those pretty lil' eyes, I'm gonna' show you Sigil, the City of Doors, the Crossroads of the Multiverse, the Cage. Yes'm, you little lady are in for a treat."

"But what If I don't want to change?"

"Now child of mine, there ain't no use fightin' it. The very simple rule of the multiverse is that things change. Maybe it's just a little, but by gods they do. Now the question is, are you going to embrace that, or are you gonna' run away?"

Raven understood what Kresk was saying. She looked at the patch of sky where a star had disappeared earlier and then looked back. The sun shone through the cracks of the city sky-line. It's beams danced and lapped at the world. Raven uttered a small thank you to the morning-star and hoisted her pack on to her shoulder. She set foot on the shore, and her life began to change forever.

And somewhere in Los Angeles, a star heard a prayer.

_The Road goes ever on and on_

_Down from the door where it began._

_Now far ahead the Road has gone,_

_And I must follow, if I can,_

_Pursuing it with eager feet,_

_Until it joins some larger way_

_Where many paths and errands meet._

_And whither then? I cannot say_

- J.R.R. Tolkien, _The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring  
_

_FIN_

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** Well, children of the night. It's time for me to say goodbye. I might put in a couple of more teaser epilogues, but not right now. For now, this story is over. Ah, but the Epic is just beginning. Remember, children of the night, that the ending of one story is the beginning of a thousand others. And so I depart for a time, and take the greatest pride in clicking the 'Complete' option for this story.****You're support was quintissential to the completion of this tale, and I hope to see more of it in the future. Wipe those tears away, children of the night, the Tygre is only sleeping, and Kresk has only sheathed his claws for a little while. Remember.**

**Gorgo.**

**Mormo**

**And the Thousand Faced Moon.**


	16. Epilogue I

**Gotcha', didn't I? Here's one of the epilogues I promised. What does one call the epilogue to a prologue, though? An e-pro-logue? That's trademarked, by the way.**

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Astaroth slowly made his away across Dizalakine, the Gate of Entropy. He wrapped his wings around him even tighter, conditioning himself against the cold, foul wind that swept the plane every now and then. The sky above was filled with thick, dark gray clouds. Light came from somewhere, despite the lack of a sun, but it didn't penetrate the thunderheads. 'Thunderheads' was a misnomer, however, for no lightning ever appeared. Rain might come from the clouds every now and then, but it was hardly noticeable. There was no sound on Dizalakine, save for the howl of the wind, the caw of a crow, and the weeping of Raum.

For this was the Harbinger of the Apocalypse's personal layer of the Abyss. The Gate of Entropy was somewhere near the bottom of the Abyss for nowhere else would a layer be so deserted or dismal. It resembled a perfectly flat plain, with dry grass growing out of the dirt. Every now and then a single, low, dead tree erupted from the earth and lifted its bare branches to the sky. A few gangly crows perched on the trees, but not many, only a five or six to every couple of dozen miles or so. The entire layer was gray: the sky, the clouds, the grass, the dirt, the crows, and especially the ruins and Raum.

Yes, especially the sole ruins that sat in the middle of the bleak layer, which watched over the dead landscape like some horrible bird. There weathered stone upon weathered stone seemed to make a good-sized tower. But the structure was empty; There were no floors except the ground, no rooftop, part of the side was missing and holes were scattered all through the walls. Some wondered what had caused the destruction; for it was obvious the only residents of the layer were its soothsayer and his birds. What almost nobody knew was that the tower hadn't been destroyed; it was being built. For this place _would be_ the birthplace of Raum.

One of the Abyss' greater secrets was the origins and life of Raum. Raum was a full-fledged Demiurge as many knew, and it appeared that he had always existed, for no one can remember when he, his doom saying, or his book was not present. This was because Raum was a temporal anomaly. Raum had (would) been (be) born exactly five seconds before the total and final Apocalypse, the end to all the multiverse, Destiny closing his book, the great inevitable, Apollyon's greatest hour, and the last ride of the Four Horsemen. The moment he was born, nobody, save Raum, knows what, something happened. Raum began to live backward in time and age at an astounding rate. Three seconds before he was born, he was fully grown, five seconds before he was born, he was wizened, and ten minutes before the Demiurge came to existence, he was the pitiful creature he is now. The Harbinger of the Apocalypse lived all of the End Days backward, seeing, hearing, and feeling the dying multiverse in reverse. The reason everybody remembered him is because Raum was not destined to die until five seconds _after_ the creation of the multiverse. Raum does not know this of course. Having lived the Last Days up until the present, Raum believes he is somehow intimately tied into the events of Armageddon. And so, the Demiurge culls followers to help set up a preliminary Apocalypse to spare Raum and the rest of the multiverse the suffering of the End. At least it would be faster and less painful than hordes of fiends washing across worlds, stars and poison plummeting from the skies, the people crying to dead gods for an end, and eldritch horrors rising from their arcane cradles. (To put it simply; his future is our past, and his past is our future. If you're confused, than it would be best to just forget about the whole issue and roll with the story.) This was the plan, doom, and mercy of Raum.

Astaroth gritted his teeth as another rock stabbed his bare foot. The Diabolus had left his dragon behind somewhere lest some other demon should search its memories for what was to be discussed here today. He thought about flying, but Astaroth was currently using all his wings to keep himself warm. As he walked, he at last came into sight of the paradox tower, a building all at once, like Raum, being born and dying at the same time. A murmuring seemed to come from above. There, on what would one day be a balcony, Raum stood staring into nothing. Astaroth wasn't sure what the clairvoyant was saying, perhaps he was predicting a plane-quake, and perhaps he was repeating a conversation he had with a friend who would not be born for another thousand years. Either way, the current premonitions would have to wait until Astaroth was done, for Astaroth needed a divination from Raum.

The Diabolus stepped inside the tower. The rafters that would one day be floors were covered in crows. Surprisingly, there were no droppings or nests or even food. There was just an occasional 'caw' from the avians. For these were not ordinary crows; these were the souls of those who pledged themselves to Raum for secrets, for power, for knowledge (to Astaroth, all three were the same). Astaroth cast a spell of _levitation_ and floated into the air, floating to the platform. Some of the birds scattered and shrieked in annoyance, flying out of empty windows and through the not-yet-existent roof. Astaroth set his feet on the balcony and stood next to Raum.

The Gray Seer was now silent and clutched a book to his chest. Old and bound in the skin of a dragon great wyrm, the book was shackled to Raum's left arm by a rusty chain and a tight manacle that cut into the diviner's flesh, making him bleed and the scar rot. The book was Raum's own, but the chain and bond were actually a concept he got from Destiny several millennia later. He liked to think that he was bound to the fate in that book, just like Destiny, and that it was his burden alone to carry. In truth, this was because Raum was right. Only the Gray Seer had experienced the future so totally. For inside the book was a thousand disasters, each one the Demiurge had seen, had lived through. The farther you go forward in time, the smaller the book gets, while the reverse is true for those who go back in time. By Raum's death, the tome is so thick and heavy that the Gray Seer must carry the grimoire on his back. But Raum reserved the ink of his own blood and the blank pages for truly horrible catastrophes that he has seen, the end of worlds and planes and cosmos. For this was the definitive source on calamities, this was the book of Raum.

Astaroth stood next to Raum and tried to think of how to best start the conversation. It was not easy to talk to the Gray Seer, to ask a question. For there was a price to the valuable knowledge of the future. Astaroth knew very well; at the end of time, it was said that the Diabolus would burn his whole library, a copy of every book and tome that had ever existed (save Raum's book of course, for only the Harbinger of the Apocalypse had _that_ book). At the very least, patience and sanity had to be sacrificed for Gray Seer's wisdom. Finally, Astaroth said, "Sooo… Lovely weather today, huh?" Raum said nothing to the small talk. Astaroth said again, "Did you happen to catch that little show on the Prime, Raum?"

Nothing was heard from the Gray Seer. He only stood and continued to stare at the landscape, as if expecting to see Abaddon himself on the horizon. Astaroth continued, "You do remember of course?" Astaroth had almost forgotten that because Raum had met Raven in the past, the Gray Seer had yet to actually be introduced to her. "Of course you don't." the Diabolus affirmed to himself. "A shadow dancer by the name of a black-bird. A Hecate reborn, all at once divine, terrestrial, and infernal. A great destiny tied to her." Muttered Raum.

"A great destiny you say? Now Raum, I know you. When you meet that girl on her sixteenth birthday, you are going to look in your book and see fate swirling around her storm. But there in is the question. You only reserve that book for true catastrophes. When she does summon the demon Trigon, his immediate reign will only be a few miles, and the spell she will cast after his defeat will rectify most casualties. Surely, such a minor conjuration is not worthy of the blood of Raum?"

The Gray Seer said nothing. Astaroth continued, "What then, did she do that was so great that even YOU took note of it? It could not possibly be that little curse attached to her at birth could it? Was that the apocalypse you will speak of for her? Was that the origin of your prophecy? Was that her great destiny, Raum?"

The Harbinger of the Apocalypse looked up at Astaroth for the first time with his gray eyes, and a single word was said by Raum:

"No."

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**I'll try to get the other e-pro-logue up soon.**

**  
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	17. Epilogue II

**I'm back for a bit. Here's the second e-pro-logue.**

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Graz'zt stalked through the halls of his castle in Azzagrat, one of his three personal layers of the Abyss. His fortress, coterminous with all three layers at all times, was made up of ivory towers and other bits of decadence. This was contrasted by rather shabby or even broken pieces of work all around the castle. Graz'zt had contrasting tastes: while he enjoyed beauty and excess to the point of corruption, the Prince of Shadows surrounded himself with the scraps of lower classes. No one, rich or poor, lord or beggar, was beyond the control of Graz'zt.

His talons scraped as Graz'zt walked along the stone floor. All along the walls, mirrors shot the Demiurge's reflection back at him. These were portals into other worlds, and it was by great fortune that something came scampering out of one of the gates of polished glass. Graz'zt was in the dungeons of his castle, near the torture chambers and pleasure pits, which the demon often found were interchangeable. Normally the only things down here were his torturers, or the bodaks, undead who were animate remains of those that the Dark Prince killed personally.

But now a lone succubus crawled out of a mirror. She was slimmer and more petite than his usual concubines by far. Her skin, hair, eyes, and even nails were some darker shade of pink. She obviously had some kind of theme going wherever it was she was coming from. She froze at the sight of Graz'zt. The entrance she had come through was forbidden to most of the common folk of Azzagrat. Graz'zt slithered over to her in a second. He held her delicate face in his six-fingered hand. He enjoyed the abstract colors of their skin clashing. His libido stirred as he felt her warm body. Of course, the handsomest Demiurge in the Abyss could not recall a time when his appetite was anything less than tepid, but still…

Graz'zt let go of the pretty little thing's face and smiled at her. He trailed two of his fingers down her neck before he teleported her to a part of the castle where nobody could hear her scream later. "Business before pleasure." The King of the Triple Layer Realm said to himself as he walked away. Normally Graz'zt found a way of combining his work with his pastimes, but male prisoners were just no fun that way. Normally he would have just had this one executed, but for some odd reason the Dark Prince found himself in the mood for splattering a helpless fool's blood, painfully and slowly.

The huge, adamantine doors opened at the command of Graz'zt. A pool of coldfire (magical fire so hot it freezes) surrounded an artificial island in the middle. The room wasn't intricate, and the coldfire cast blue light on the walls. A bridge, guarded on all sides by massive golems, stretched to the atoll in the middle of the lake. The prisoner was shackled in the center, his feet, hands, and mouth restrained so he couldn't cast spells. Abat-dolor, a race of demons created by Graz'zt in his own image held spears and encircled the prisoner.

Graz'zt stood in front of the prisoner, his emerald eyes glowing. He snorted, "Pathetic. How small you look now, so weak, so humble. Staring at your pitiful form, I feel as if your weak body is so soft by now that I could squish it between my fingers like jelly."

The prisoner said nothing. "I imagine you thought you were so powerful, so strong with what you stole from me. Tell me, how many nameless dregs did you conquer with my weapon's power? Not enough to save you, obviously. To think, my own, son, so weak, so stupid. Believing that he could steal Doomshadow's little brother, Umbrancor, and that he would escape. The idiocy astounds me."

Graz'zt summoned Umbrancor into his left hand. Long ago the thief kneeling before Graz'zt had stolen one of the twin blades, and it had faded from memory that Graz'zt preferred to carry two swords into battle. Now he could resume the more efficient carnage. The King of Lamias smiled, showing his yellow fangs, "And what fortuitous circumstances! To think that it was your own half-sister that brought you to me, that beat you to your knees. How long did you perpetuate that lie, foolish one, that façade that you were her father? Sixteen years, Trigon. Sixteen years you worked so hard on taking one of my treasures from my hoard. And then, she sent you here." Graz'zt chuckled. He said to the bound demon, "Laugh, my son. Laugh. Because for the next few decades you'll have to laugh to keep yourself from crying. And I don't want to have to stop the fun just to dry my hands of your tears."

Trigon remained silent. "Very well, than you chose your fate." Negative energy crackled from the six-fingered hand. Graz'zt placed his hand on Trigon's face and began the tortures. Pleasure, pain; it didn't matter to Graz'zt. All screams were delicious that night.

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**The End. I mean it this time.**


End file.
